


You Broke It, You Fix It

by saucyminx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-20
Updated: 2010-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 65,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyminx/pseuds/saucyminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a hunt leaves Dean broken beyond repair, Sam makes a different sort of deal with a demon to give them a fresh start. The trouble with dealing with demons? How rarely they keep their promises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gasping, pleasure crashing into him again and again, Sam rolled away from his brother. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and shoved his hair back out of his eyes. "So..." he panted softly, "we gonna talk about this or just keep on going with the sex and the whole _Dean Winchester_ way of never acknowledging it?" Sam blew out a long breath and scratched absent-mindedly at his chest. Either way - talk about it or not, it wasn't that he minded it, _the sex_ , it was just weird not to talk about it. It was like some big freaking gigantic pink elephant standing in the middle of the room.

Leave it to his brother to finish up a particularly mind shattering round of sex with a jump into _too complicated_ territory. Dean sighed heavily and dragged the back of his hand across his forehead. "Not even gonna let my heart stop racing huh?" He glanced over at Sam and snorted, shaking his head. "What do you want Sam? A promise of fidelity? Wanna get little heart tattoos on our asses that have an S and D in them with a little forever underneath?" Dean rolled his eyes at the thought and stretched his newly relaxed muscles.

"Don't be a dick about it." Sam huffed, corner of his lip twitching up into a scowl. Tucking his hands behind his head he let his leg sprawl out to the side, resting it against Dean's thigh to see how long it would take his brother to move away from something _intimate_ like a touch. "Fine," he shrugged, "whatever - was just a question." He was silent for a few minutes, listening to the sound of Dean breathing. "It's just that ... I mean ... what are we doing? What have we _been_ doing for the past six months?"

Once more Dean rolled his eyes, a fairly common occurrence in the presence of his brother, and shrugged. "We're fucking Sam. It's raw, and intense, and something more than whatever we could find out _there_ so just _enjoy_ it." Shifting up into a sitting position, Dean dropped his legs off the side of the bed and pushed at the digital clock on the nightstand until he could see the time. "I like it, you seem to like it, so can't that just be enough?" Dean half glanced over his shoulder at the sprawled, naked, sweat damp form of his brother and smiled slightly, turning before his brother could catch the fond glint in his eyes.

Sam's fingers were almost at Dean's back, almost touching his brother's flushed skin and he withdrew. "Yeah... sure, fine." Obviously Dean didn't share the issues that Sam was having with ... feeling ... _more_ than he thought he should. It felt like Sam had more to lose now and that didn't even make sense in his own head. The problem was that Sam wasn't sure he could face the consequence of actually trying to discuss his feelings with Dean. He'd been through it numerous times and it was never pretty; come to think of it, he wasn't quite sure why he kept beating his head against a brick wall.

Rolling toward Dean's back Sam frowned, "the thing is..." He watched the muscular curve of Dean's back tense as he spoke again almost able to envision another eye roll. "This is great - I get that - I mean, it's _fuckin'_ great. But ... is there more to it?" Sam could feel a flush creeping along his skin in a slow burn of embarrassment.

"There's always more to it," Dean admitted quietly and shook his head. Why Sam always felt the need to push things wasn't lost on Dean. Sometimes he wondered if his brother thought he always had one foot halfway out the door, ready to bolt after the next good looking thing that walked his way. And sure, Dean was tempted sometimes but he was _human_ and _male_ and those things constituted appreciating beauty. The fact remained however that he was loyal and faithful to his brother, the man took all priorities, and that was saying a lot for Dean. "Come on Sam, you know I love you. I'm not always the walking cliché that fucks around for the hell of it. So what is it you want?" Turning once more Dean stared down at his brother, lip quirking up into a slight smile. "What _more_ is there?"

"I dunno," Sam looked away feeling his heart quicken as the very idea of actually being honest with Dean bubbled up inside him. "Maybe, like me touching you sometimes and you don't pull away." Sam knew how his brother was, how this was a fine line he was walking. "I don't expect you to take me to a fuckin' movie or anything and cuddle me in the back row," he spat out quickly when Dean's eyebrow lifted slightly. "Look - forget it... I'm just... tired ... or completely-fuckin'-stupid."

"Dude you're not stupid," Dean _once more_ rolled his eyes and dropped down onto the bed, rolling to face Sam and study him. "So what... you want to hold my hand in public? Sit on the same side of the booth in a diner?" He smirked at the thought and shook his head. "Okay, let me stop you before you get all bitchy again," Dean reached out and laid his fingers on Sam's lips, affectively stopping any words from coming out. "Look I'll be the first to admit I'm not big on the PDA but man, it's not like I've got a whole shit load of experience. I just don't roll that way, you know that," Dean lifted one shoulder in a shrug and dropped his hand.

Nodding, Sam rubbed at the end of his nose. "Yeah, I get it." Letting his hand drift to his temple he rubbed slowly. "We goin' out for food or somethin'?" Closing his eyes Sam rolled onto his back and tugged the quilt back over his waist. It was tiring; pretending to be something he wasn't - or was he pretending that _Dean_ was something _he_ wasn't. Whatever the hell it was Sam was too tired to figure it out. "Or research ... we got another case? Something to kill?" He opted for humour to lighten the heaviness in the room.

For just a moment Dean considered rolling up to Sam's back and pulling him close, holding him against his chest and feeling the soft inhale, exhale of air working through him. But the idea flickered away with self doubt and Dean sighed, pushing up to once more drop his legs off the edge of the mattress. Maybe Sam was the one with a foot halfway out the door. "Yeah, food. Research. Whatever. I'm gonna hit the shower," Dean stood, shaky on his legs for a moment before heading for the bathroom.

"I'm not leavin' ya know, no matter what you're like." Sam knew that line of his brother's shoulders. He knew what it meant when Dean's fingers twitched at his thigh the way they were. "Don't worry." Some things were worth the crap Dean would give him for saying it. Watching his brother's shoulders relax, his fingers still even as he waited for his Dean's retort.

"Who would leave me?" Dean laughed, noting the humourless quality to it with a slight frown. He hesitated at the doorway to the bathroom, curling his fingers along the door frame and tightening. "I'm not either you know," he shrugged and glanced over his shoulder to peer at Sam. Considering him for a moment, how important his brother really was to him, Dean half smiled and pushed the bathroom door the rest of the way open. "You wanna join in me in the shower?" He suggested with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Laughing, Sam flipped the cover back and stood before stretching his arms up high over his head. "Who..." he yawned and shoved his hair back, "can resist a slick offer like that?" Shaking his head he brushed past Dean into the bathroom and leaned over the tub to turn the water on.

-=-=-=-

Some part of Dean's mind registered that _agonizing_ over the decision to touch someone was probably a sign that you were generally fucked up. But despite the previous reassurances, Dean couldn't be one hundred percent certain that Sam wasn't going to just get fed up with him one day. The absolute last thing he wanted was Sam leaving. He'd dealt with that before and it wasn't pleasant. So here they were, walking through the library in quest for some book that Sam claimed would provide the answers to whatever the hell his brother thought the creature they were hunting was. Dean had only come along because the TV in the motel room only had four channels and however entertaining PBS could be sometimes, Dean could only take so much.

"So... this book is really old?" He asked in what would be curious way if he actually gave a damn about the book at all. Which he didn’t. Dean half reached out to brush Sam's hand but dropped his hand when his brother turned a slightly annoyed glance at him.

"Old? Yeah... Dean..." Sam couldn't help sounding a little bitchy, "it's old." Shaking his head he walked to the back room at the end of all the stacks marked _Archives_. "Why are you here again, Dean?" Sam pulled the door open and walked through, "not that I don't appreciate the company..." Walking over to the section the Librarian had described Sam ran the pads of his fingers alone the old book spines.

Dean watched his brother's fingers run along the books and rolled his shoulders, looking around the empty section of the library. "I can research. I'm not incapable you know," he ran a hand through his hair and shifted forward slightly, leaning into Sam to stare at the books. "Besides it's either this or me wasting quarters on the massage bed. Thought we'd save that for later," he smirked and reached out to poke at a dusty old volume.

"Yeah - see," Sam's hand froze on one of the spines as he turned to look at Dean, "you and that bed thing? Disturbing." He hadn't really put much thought into the fact that Dean was so close until he turned and they were face to face. Sam's nose twitched and he smiled shyly then turned back to the books. "Here..." Sam pulled out a particularly large and dusty volume. "It's written by this guy who was a ... kind of missionary. He lived with the Ojibway for years and kept a journal." Sam blew the dust off the top of the book, most of it clouding up around Dean's face. "Here...go ... research," he said with a smirk on his face.

Taking the book, Dean sneezed at the dust and scrunched up his face, staring at the large volume and frowned. "Uh... research what exactly?" He looked up at his brother and lifted his eyebrows, wondering why Sam thought he actually _wanted_ to research. Just because he could didn't mean he wanted too.

Huffing out a breath Sam snatched the book back, "come over here then." Walking over to the table Sam pulled out a chair and sat down and opened the book. "Wendigo's." He nodded knowingly up at Dean.

Dropping down into the chair Dean shifted closer and peered at the words. "Wendigo. Alright," he nodded and scratched along his brow, thoughts once more sparking up regarding the whole _touch_ issue. Leaning closer into the book under the pretence of studying the text, Dean shifted his leg to rest flush against Sam's with purpose. "How do we kill it?" When it came down to it, that was all that mattered to him. Find the problem, fix the problem. That's what mattered most.

Sam's lips twitched up into a slight smile and he kept his eyes on the book. "Don't you wanna know any of the history?" The heat of Dean's leg pressed against his was making it a little hard to concentrate.

Chuckling softly Dean shrugged and leaned back, stretching his arm back and curling his fingers along the back of Sam's chair, fingers resting against his back. "Can't see how it'll make a difference but sure, enlighten me." Dean was secretly pleased with himself and the nagging touch issue. If this didn't prove to Sam that he was _trying_ than nothing would.

"So, psychiatrists have theorized that the Wendigo was merely a manifestation of a particularly strong taboo. You know," he glanced up at Dean, "like an urban myth that has a moral undertone that kept people from doing something _bad_. But ..." he flipped through the book until he stopped at a rather disturbing drawing. The creature had the basic shape of a man but - almost like a man who'd been drained of most of his bodily fluids. He face was sunken in, eyes black, fingers long, thin and curled like they were gnarled tree branches. Sam leaned back a little into Dean's touch, the slight smile still there even as he looked at the hideous creature on the page. He forgot that he was even talking ... sitting there enjoying this moment of touch that Dean was allowing him.

"Well that sounds... vaguely disturbing," Dean nodded and chuckled, hand dropping when the faint whisper of voices registered in his mind. He glanced over his shoulder for a moment as two women walked by before turning back to the book and peering at the creature with slightly scrunched features. "So uh... the killing thing? What do we do? Chop its head off? Burn it's uh... body?" He arched an eyebrow at Sam and smirked.

"Uh..." Sam cleared his throat, "the uh... this guy... uh... Hancock... he wrote about how the Ojibway believed that this Wendigo was either an incarnation of someone who had been a cannibal or simply this evil creature who had an insatiable craving... for human flesh." Sam shook his head trying to focus, "that's not what you asked me," he muttered and flipped to another page. "Here...we have to _shatter its heart of ice_ with a silver or iron axe." Shrugging, tilting his head to the side Sam turned to look at Dean, eyes trailing over his brother's lips first. "Guess typical stuff... iron or silver through the heart."

Dean nodded once more and inhaled, holding his breath as his hand dropped to Sam's thigh and slid down between his legs. "Alright, sounds easy enough. As easy as they ever get I suppose. So, sounds like we don't have to go at any specific time... you wanna just go and take care of the thing or wait for later? We're pretty sure it's holed up somewhere in the forest yeah?" Reaching out to tilt the book toward him, Dean's hand between Sam's legs slid up, thumb pressing into the denim firmly. "Think it'll be easy to track?" He murmured, voice much more husky than it had been moments before.

Sam's mouth parted but words failed him for the moment. Licking his lips nervously he shifted slightly on the chair and turned back to the book. "It's um…" his mouth opened and closed a few times as Dean's thumb dragged slowly up the seam on the crotch of his jeans. "Uh... stronger...it's stronger at night. We should... wait till tomorrow morning." Rolling his bottom lip under straight white teeth Sam bit down hard. _Now._ It had to be in a Library and it had to be _hot_. Dean had always had the strangest sense of timing.

"Alright," Dean chuckled, wondering if he sounded as much like a broken record as he felt. "Guess we got some time to kill. Wanna go see a move and snuggle in the back row?" He teased and laughed louder, biting the sound off sharply as it occurred to him where they were. "Sure we can figure out something to do to pass the time. Suggestions?" He asked quietly, dragging his thumb along the denim with enough pressure to make the flesh beneath respond.

Turning to face his brother Sam was confronted with those _damn_ lips again. Sam's hips twitched slightly under the pressure. Glancing up at Dean he peered at him from under his bangs, "we could..." Sam lifted his hand, fingers nearly grazing Dean's shirt then closed his fist and dropped his hand back to the table. "Well, there's dinner... and ... stuff." The stupid part was that Sam would gladly sit there at the Library and read the entire book if it meant having Dean's leg pressed up against his, his thumb running over the bulge in the front of Sam's jeans.

Shifting on the chair slightly, Dean bobbed his head in a half nod and twisted his wrist, nudging Sam's legs apart slightly with spread fingers. "And... _stuff_..." he echoed, smirk playing across his lips. "I like stuff..." he agreed quietly and resisted the urge to look around to ensure they were alone. He _knew_ they were, his hunter senses always picked up on the presence of another, even with the burning heat of his brother pressed against his fingers through denim. "So Sam, anything else I should know about this Wendigo? Wanna be on top of my game and all," Dean said solemnly, thrill sparking along his senses as he teased his brother.

Sam flipped another page of the book without even looking down at it. "It's... it's a good hunter. We'll…" Sam cleared his throat, eyes darting nervously to the door to see if the Librarian was still far away at the circulation desk. She was. "We'll have to be careful ..." giving in to the urge finally Sam let his fingers curl over Dean's wrist where it lay across his thigh. His thumb moved over the slightest bump of veins and tendons in his brother's wrist. "M..More careful...than usually... than usual." Sam let out a small laugh, nervous, so turned on he could barely see straight. "Dean... should we leave? Back to the motel?"

Smirk growing, Dean palmed Sam roughly, rubbing along the denim and shrugging, "what's up? Having some issues little brother?" Dean kind of _loved_ teasing Sam, even more so now that they'd entered this new, forbidden world where touching low on the body was not only welcomed but often encouraged. The flush on Sam's face was enough to get the blood pulsing quicker through his veins and Dean shifted against the heat growing in his jeans.

"No.." Sam's voice was thick, eyes darting up to Dean's then back down to the book as a vague smile tugged at his lips. Leaning back slightly Sam let his legs fall open, hips tilting up into his brother's firm touch. "It's big... like some say over ten feet ... uh tall...the Wendigo." Sam's eyes tried to move over the words on the page but his lashes fell to his cheeks for a few moments. Tightening his grip on his brother's wrist Sam pressed Dean's hand harder against the firm line in the front of his jeans. Gasping in a breath his eyes were wild when he looked back at Dean. "We should..."

Pushing up from the chair Dean curled his fingers in the collar of Sam's shirt and lifted him swiftly to his feet. Sure teasing was a hell of a lot of fun but Dean knew that _look_ in Sam's eyes and it told him he'd be well rewarded for their encounter. That was too appealing to pass up on. "We should," he agreed, releasing Sam's shirt from his grasp and spinning on his heels to head back through the stacks, beckoning Sam to follow with a look shot over his shoulder.

Swaying for a few moments Sam closed the book and stumbled forward a few steps to the door, tugging at the front of his jeans. _God_ , the way Dean could just make Sam _want_ him so fast. Sam hadn't even considered that more touching... _more_ touching might lead to something like this. Bumping into a chair, Sam looked up and smiled apologetically at the Librarian as he pushed it back into the table and trailed along behind his brother. A little dazed, Sam smiled when he realized he was staring at Dean's ass, watching the barely-there sway of his brother's hips as he walked. Sam walked faster and slipped through the door just as it was closing behind his brother. The fresh air was good, cooling the flush that Sam knew was colouring his face. "Motel?" He almost ran into Dean's back as his brother stopped at the side of the car.

Half turning to Sam, Dean dropped his voice low and subtlety moved back to rub his thigh against Sam's cock. "Unless you just want to fuck right here in the parking lot?" He suggested, eyebrows lifting, face blank otherwise to hint that he might not be completely joking about the idea. Dean wet his lips slowly, swaying dangerously close to crushing his lips against Sam's, considering slamming him into the nearest hard surface and just taking him because he _could_.

Sam's eyes darted around them nervously. Hooking his fingers over Dean's waistband, Sam tugged gently. "Rather go to the motel," he murmured as his body swayed closer to Dean's. "Or..." Sam shrugged, heart bouncing around in his chest. He shrugged and looked down at Dean's shoulder.

With a snort of aroused laughter Dean broke away from the touch and headed toward the driver's side, slipping the key into the lock and twisting. "Somehow I just don't think the world's ready for that level of fucking hot," he mused aloud to his brother before tugging the door open and sliding in, reaching across the seat to pull the lock on Sam's door and push it open, straightening out to slip the key into the ignition. "Get in Sam, my cock's not gonna fuck itself," he smirked at the words, chuckling a moment later.

Shaking his head Sam climbed into the car staring at his brother for a few moments then turning to face the front. "I was _gonna_ say...we could drive somewhere ... somewhere ... you know...where no one is around." Not that Sam had _ever_ thought about Dean fucking him up against the car. Lashes fluttering Sam ran a hand down his face and looked out the passenger window. "Or the motel..." he added thickly.

 _"You... wanna do that?" Dean slipped the car into reverse and turned to stare at his brother, eyes widening slightly. There were lots of heavy forest areas around and Dean was fairly confident in his ability to find a place private enough. "Never thought you'd be an exhibitionist Sammy," he smirked slightly once more and backed the car up, arm extending over the back of the seat as he watched his movements before peeling out of the parking lot with a loud squeal of tires._

 _Rubbing his hands on his thighs nervously Sam looked over at Dean as he pulled out on to the road. "Well, not if you ... if you're not into it... or ... something." Frowning, Sam shrugged again and made a mental note to shrug less._

 _Dean nearly choked on a laugh and sped through a yellow light, taking a sharp right toward the edge of town. "C'mon Sam, do I seriously look the kind of guy who's _not_ into something?" He shot a look at Sam and spread his legs slightly. "You haven't tapped a tenth of my kinks," he dropped his arm over the seat once more, extending his fingers to curl around Sam's collar and tug him over._

"Really?" Sam forgot the nervous flutter in his stomach for a few moments as curiosity overtook him. He turned slightly as he slid a little closer to Dean. "Like... like what?" Reaching out Sam curled his hand over Dean's thigh, digging his fingers in _hard_. Dean had great legs, muscular from all the running and hiking they did.

Lifting his leg under the touch, Dean wet his lips and curled his fingers tight around the steering wheel. The car accelerated slightly and he swallowed, "like... force. Handcuffs. I might have a thing for weapons but I think we knew that." Dean forced his eyes to stay on the road, focusing on not killing them even though Sam's touch was burning straight through him. "I like it rough. Borderline pain rough. Maybe not so borderline. Damnit Sam we can't have this conversation while I'm driving," Dean shook his head roughly, mind easily supplying the image of Sam's teeth sinking into his flesh roughly.

Sam's hand slid higher on Dean's thigh. _Oh,_ his brother had his attention now. "Pain ..." Sam echoed, "like me hurting you or you hurting me... or both." Sam's mouth was dry and suddenly it felt like all the air had been sucked right out of the car.

Some part of Dean recoiled at the thought of hurting Sam, though he knew if it were something Sam _wanted_ he wouldn't deny him that. Just like Sam wouldn't deny him if he asked, or suggested, or maybe just put the information out there like he was about to do now, unable to stop himself. Dean's fingers tightened hard enough on the steering wheel to lose their color. "You hurting me," he said, voice rough as he shifted on the seat. "Like... biting and... and... you know," Dean shrugged and took another sharp turn, eyes scanning the trees around them for a good spot to pull off.

Staring, silent and insanely turned on Sam finally managed to close his mouth and swallow. "That... sounds..." Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth Sam couldn't stop staring at Dean. They'd been stuck in the damn car for a lot of years together and there were _still_ things that Sam didn't know about his brother. As the car turned again Sam slid closer to Dean, hand riding high up on his brother's firm thigh. His little finger was firm against the heat of Dean's crotch. _God_ Dean was hard. Just talking about this stuff had made Dean so _hot_. Sucking in a breath Sam leaned closer and dragged his lips down his brother's neck. "Find somewhere to stop," he murmured as his wrist twisted so his broad palm could lie flat against his brother's cock.

Dean was nearly desperate by this point, vision blurring to a dangerous level. He whipped the car down a barely there trail and sped along a bumpy road, car bouncing for a moment before he turned into a secluded enough looking area. "Jesus Christ," he growled and slammed the car into park, spinning in the seat and curling his hand quickly around Sam's neck. He dragged Sam in roughly slamming their lips together and thrusting his tongue forward as his body moved out of his control up in an arch.

The coppery flavour of blood teased at Sam's tongue as it slid across his brother's. He moaned into the kiss, eyes clenching at the dull ache from their mouths connecting so hard. Twisting his body, pushing up so he was kneeling on the seat Sam grabbed two fists full of Dean's jacket and shoved him back _hard_ against the driver's side door. His mouth moved over his brother's, slanting to deepen the kiss. It was rough, wet but Sam cared a lot more about the urgency of it than he did the accuracy. Teeth grazing down his brother's jaw Sam smirked and then bit down hard on Dean's neck. Tangling his hand in his brother's short hair Sam yanked Dean's head back giving himself more room. Rolling Dean's flesh between his teeth, Sam tugged hard then lapped at the skin as soon he released it.

A low, deep moan tore through Dean, body arching up into Sam's as the sharp sting of pain coursed through him. The aching low in his groin intensified as Sam's fingers tightened in his hair and Dean found himself suddenly very glad that he'd confessed this secret kink to his brother. Now there would be no limits, Sam could slam him around and be as rough as he wanted and _know_ it was what Dean wanted. "Fuck Sam," he spat and tore at the front of his brother's shirt, popping buttons as the cotton parted, hands slipping in to smooth along his flesh. Dean's leg dug harder into the steering wheel as he spread them wider, trying to grant more room for Sam to get as close as possible.

"Stupid..." Sam muttered, "s'no room." Kneeling back up again Sam's hands slid forward and he tugged Dean across the seat as he walked backward on his knees. When he finally wrestled Dean out from behind the steering wheel he threw one leg over Dean's and settled himself on his brother's lap. Grinding his hips against Dean's he moaned and dropped his head forward with a long sigh. "Fuck... I love this... why... why'd we wait...." Sam's lips moved wetly against his brother neck as he spoke, teeth sliding along the vein pumping hard and fast in Dean's neck. Hands shaking, frantic, he shoved at Dean's jacket until it was pushed down off his arms. Pressing hard against Dean, Sam breathed hot and moist against his brother's mouth. "What you want?"

Dean's hands smoothed around Sam's chest, along to his back, curving into the skin and dragging down. "Wanna fuck you..." he moaned and rolled his hips up, hands moving back until he could shoved at Sam's jacket. "Against..." he murmured roughly and pushed at the open shirt until it joined his brother's coat on the floor. "The car..." Dean grunted sharply when Sam's teeth connected with his flesh once more. Bending his brother back against the dash, Dean dipped forward to suck kisses along Sam's chest. His hand pressed into the small of Sam's back firmly, fingers dipping beneath the waist line. A smirk played across Dean's lips as he bit roughly on the skin before sucking hard enough to pull blood to the surface.

The hard end of the dashboard ground into Sam's back but he barely noticed as he arched up into the heat of Dean's mouth. Hand slipping of the dash Sam's other hand darted up to slam into the firm muscle of Dean's upper arm. As long as Sam's fingers were they couldn't reach around Dean's arm, barely covered the strained muscle in the front. Sam's mind was cloudy, hazy with the lust that was bubbling up inside him. Slithering off Dean's lap, half on the floor, half on the seat, Sam reached behind him to fumble with the door handle as he swore softly. As the door open behind his upper body fell back out of the car and onto the ground then raised his head to grin slyly at his brother. "I'm smooth..."

Chuckling, Dean nodded and slid forward, climbing over his brother and stumbling out of the car. "So smooth," he agreed and curled his fingers around Sam's arms and dragged his legs the rest of the way off the seat, pulling him out of the car and spinning him. The sun beat down on them as Dean shoved Sam against the car and curved him back, sucking a trail of kisses along his collar bone, down his chest, pulling his nipple roughly between his teeth and dragging it out. Dean's knee shoved roughly between Sam's legs, grinding up into his crotch as he nearly lifted his brother's body from the ground. "Gonna fuck you," he growled into Sam's skin, fingers running firm stripes down Sam's sides before tugging in rough pulls at his waistline, freeing the button from its hold. Dean could feel his heart racing against his chest, body surging with enough pleasure to make his vision blur.

There wasn't an atom of oxygen anywhere in Sam's lungs. He gasped for air, fingers scrabbling for a grip on Dean's shirt and tearing roughly at it. Dean's voice was thick and spread over Sam's flesh sparking a tingling sensation that dripped down his chest. Dean's hands were rough, fingers grazing against the sensitive flesh of Sam's stomach. Each pull on his jeans sent his hips crushing into Dean's, cock aching, straining against the material. "Dean..." His brother's name slipped past his lips easily. Inching his legs apart, back sliding sweat-slick against the hot metal of the hood, Sam moaned and wrenched on Dean's shirt until he could finally pull it up and over Dean's head. The glistening skin of Dean's chest was too much of a temptation and Sam lunged forward, licking and biting at the curves and lines of his brother's body. Fingers curling around Dean's pendent, Sam's long leg wrapped around his brother's hips, locking them closer together.

Sam's flesh burned beneath him, sparking his movements forward. Pushing at the jeans as the zipper reached the bottom; Dean growled and pulled back enough to tug roughly on the denim. He could feel the heat soaking into the flexing muscles along his back, tensing and pulling as he pushed Sam down so his bare ass fell back onto the hood of the car. " _Fuck_..." he breathed as Sam's skin glistened in the sunlight, curving up against the shiny black metal of the car. Dean's lips twitched up into a smirk, a perfect picture of his two favourite things in the world. Dipping down Dean bit roughly at Sam's hipbone, continuing to push at the denim until it pooled around his ankles above his boots. He sucked at Sam's flesh, leaving a purplish circle along his hipbone.

Hissing in a breath Sam winced, "car's ... _fuckin'_ hot..." Then Dean's mouth locked onto his hip and the rest of his sanity fled. Spine curved over the fender, hot metal burning into his back, Dean's flesh - mouth - tongue burning into his flesh, Sam let his head fall back. One hand pressed flat against the hood, Sam reached out with his other gripping the back of Dean's neck hard - fingers digging in, nails scratching the skin. "Dean..." he groaned. Legs trapped by his jeans, body pinned down by his brother's Sam was so _fucking_ turned on he could barely breathe.

Pulling back slightly Dean shoved a hand down to his waistline, tugging at the button and pulling the zipper down. "Jesus I'm so _fuckin'_..." he growled the words once more and roughly palmed his cock through his jeans, shoulders shaking as desire coursed through him. He wanted to spread Sam wide and fuck him hard enough to make his mind completely blank for the rest of the day. A heavy breath fell from Dean's lips as he finally freed the trapped line of his cock, fingers curling around the aching flesh to stroke a few quick jerks and grant himself some relief. "Whatcha want Sammy?" He moaned, hips arching forward as his fingers tightened around himself and twisted.

Struggling under his brother's weight Sam shifted, skin sticking to the smooth metal as he fought his way out from under Dean. "Want..." he stuttered, strained, wrenching his body to the left and kicking his boot off to free his leg. Sighing with relief he spread his legs wide and moaned as Dean sank back down onto him. Huffing, slamming his hands down onto the car, Sam rolled his eyes, "want you to _fuck_ me... now."

Watching the way Sam's body moved under his, Dean's eyes widened slightly for a moment, heart hammering impossibly harder into his chest. Shoving his pants roughly down past his knees Dean leaned forward into the hood of the car, one hand wrapping around Sam's hipbone and dragging him across the burning hot metal. It was a little on the crude side - and not really Dean's style - but he raised his palm to lap along his flesh with thick drags of saliva, thoroughly wetting his skin before wrapping his fingers around his cock and stroking into the red flesh glistened. Lifting Sam's legs and spreading them wide, Dean grasped himself and rubbed the crown along Sam's crack, smearing precome into the overheated flesh. His hips jerked forward in anticipation. Of all the people Dean had fucked before, no one know how to respond quite like Sam did. Already his brother's body was rocking back to meet his and Dean nudged the head into tight muscle that clamped around him like a vice, sucking the air from his lungs.

Sam's muscles were quivering, rippling under his brother's hands. He hooked a leg over Dean's shoulder, hands squeaking against the shiny black metal as he held on to the car. Dean's cock was nudging into him, slowly, teasing and Sam just couldn't take it. Body bowing up off the car, shoulders curling forward he reached out - nails dragging down Dean's chest and over his nipple, bright red trails across Dean's flesh. "Dean..." There was a plea hidden in his voice. He was done with the eye-rolling, done with laughing, done with _wanting_ and he needed Dean. "I ... need this..." Biting down on his lip Sam regretted the words for a fleeting moment, hoping it wasn't too much. And yet, it was true. Sam needed Dean, needed his body, his words, the heat of his flesh.

"I got you," Dean said softly, mildly surprised by how gentle the following caress was. For a moment their eyes connected and Dean swallowed as emotion shot through him. Overcompensating for the tenderness he was certain was in his gaze, Dean slammed all the way in, burying himself completely in Sam's body. He could _hear_ Sam's body slide along the hood as he reared back and thrust forward hard enough to shake them both. The fender dug into his thighs, burning along his skin as sweat beaded across his shoulders and along the back of his neck. The air was already on short supply in Dean's lungs and he gasped roughly, sharp grunt leaving his lips as he slammed back down into his brother.

It _fucking_ burned and Sam's flesh was resisting the slide across the metal. Sam's eyes slammed shut as he winced, spine twisting as his body rolled slightly to the side. " _Je_ sus Chri..." Sam's fist slammed down on the hood. Dean was strong, had always been the stronger of the two of them physically and he was using every bit of his strength. It was like they'd both suddenly realized that the other wasn't going to break. The sun was beating down on Sam's chest - the heat of it painting the entire encounter with a dream-like air. Sam could already feel that he'd be bruised, his ass, his hips... _fuck_ Dean's grip on him was so tight. But in the middle of it all Sam was so hard it felt like his cock would blow apart - he'd never wanted Dean more, never been more turned on. Dean's face was a mix of expressions, the steel hard glance of the hunter and the fleeting glimpse of tenderness, dark rose blooms on his cheeks and swollen lips.

Bending in half at the waist, Dean worked his arms under Sam's body, letting his brother's back rest mostly on his forearms and driving down into his body _hard_. It wasn't exactly a comfortable position for either of them and Dean's hips stuttered out a brutal pace but it saved Sam from getting completely burned by the car. After all, there were limits to the amount of pain Dean did find enjoyable. This way he was able to slam into Sam at just the right angle to hit his prostate, head dipping down as he gasped in breaths. Dean's knees felt weak as his orgasm began a steady build in him and he swallowed thickly before moaning Sam's name. His quick pace roughened, sharp and swift into tight muscle, fingers curling into Sam's back as they rocked together.

Sam's body started to blow apart one piece at a time. His vision clouded and tunnelled down to focus on Dean. His brother's face. It felt like electricity was shooting straight up his spine each time Dean's cock slid past the bundle of nerves deep within him and Sam could hear the sounds that were coming out of his mouth even though they sounded so far away. Wrapping his arms around Dean's shoulders, holding his brother as close as he could, Sam could feel his orgasm fluttering to life in his belly. Each thrust of Dean's hips sent shock waves of pleasure through Sam's body, pain and pleasure merging into one stinging sensation.

Half dropping Sam's body back onto the car Dean pulled one arm free and brought his fingers down to curve around Sam's cock, stroking in time with his hard thrusts. He knew he was only moments away and he shoved at Sam's legs on his shoulder, letting them drop to the side so his hand under Sam's back could lift him up further. Dean crushed their lips together roughly, teeth and tongue sliding along his brother's mouth sloppily as his knees dug hard into the car beneath them. Dean slammed his eyes shut as his orgasm finally took hold, muscles tensing and pulling as his hips jerked forward to empty his release deep within his brother with long, shallow thrusts.

As Dean's cock pulsed out his release, Sam felt every throb of his brother's flesh. He came in the space of time it took to breathe one breath - Dean's fingers stroking his orgasm out of him. Sucking Dean's tongue hard into his mouth Sam held tight to his brother, feeling like Dean was all that was keeping him afloat in the world. Thick ropes of come landed between them, covering Dean's tanned fingers and the sweat-slick skin of Sam's chest. Sam felt their teeth crack together and bit down on Dean's bottom lip hard - rolling the swollen flesh between his teeth as he felt both of their bodies twitching and jerking.

For a long while Dean continued to kiss Sam, lips gliding hard together and gradually ebbing out to something softer as their hearts slowed their racing. Dean's heart skipped a beat and he pulled back, withdrawing for Sam with a groan and rolling to lean heavily against the car. "Fuck that was hot," he chuckled and shakily wiped at the come on his belly, scrunching his face as it smeared along his fingers before bring his hand up and sucking a long digit into his mouth to clean it off.

Blinking in the sun Sam licked his lips, " _that_ was hot..." His eyes were still focused on Dean's lips and the way he was sucking his finger. Sam's fingers twitched then landed on Dean's hip, moving in gentle circles. He always wanted to touch Dean more and was always afraid it would be the touch that sent Dean away from him. "I think I'm gonna like ... figuring out more of your..." he panted a few soft breaths "kinks."

Laughing Dean nodded before dragging his tongue along his palm. Once he was sure his hand was clean he turned and pushed Sam back down, bending low and licking along the flat line of his abs into the cooling puddle of come there. Dean moaned as the taste sparked along his tongue. He was a big fan of how Sam tasted, earthy and just the right amount of sweet to counteract the salt.

Sam could feel his muscles tighten under the rough rasp of his brother's tongue. _Jesus_... watching Dean do that was... well, probably one of the hottest things that Sam had ever seen. There were obviously many things that Sam didn't know about his brother. Fingers slipping gently through the silky hair at the base of Dean's skull, Sam smiled and closing his eyes, let his head roll to the side.

As soon as all the come was gone Dean took just a moment to rest against Sam's skin, lips pressed into the skin before he pulled back, groaning slightly as his back straightened. "Never done it on the car before..." he mused and shifted down to pull up his pants still wrapped around his calves. "Gotta do it again sometime," he smirked at Sam before looking around for the place his shirt had been thrown.

"Never?" Sam raised his eyebrows, groaning as he peeled his abused flesh off the hood of the car. "Surprises me..." he murmured. Bending at the waist Sam untangled his jeans and pulled them back on. All the blood rushed to his head and he leaned back against the car rubbing at his eyes. "Figured...you would have.." he shrugged, brows furrowed, "done most things."

"I have," Dean admitted with only the slightest smug grin. "But the opportunity never presented itself before," he shrugged and finally spotted his shirt, stumbling toward it and shaking it slightly. "What about you Sam? Got some kinks you'd like to share?" He'd never imagined his brother as the kinky kind of guy but the thought was appealing, discovering Sam's kinks and playing them up as much as possible.

Stretching his arms out high above his head and arching his back in a luxurious release of tension Sam sighed. "There are some things..." His arms dropped back to his sides and his gaze locked with his brother's "I'd like you..." he blinked, thinking he was insane, "to tie me to a bed sometime, legs spread wide, arms up above my head, face down - you know - so you can do whatever you want... and ... and..." he swallowed, throat dry and tight. Shoving a hand through his hair he smiled, feeling suddenly shy and awkward.

The mental image the words supplied was enough to have Dean's cock twitching in slight interest. "Yeah..." he nodded and stepped toward Sam as he tugged his shirt on. "We'll definitely have to do that... soon..." he added and grinned before continuing his walk around the car, stopping only to smack Sam's ass. "How 'bout some dinner? Worked up an appetite with that," tilting his head back with a laugh Dean tugged open the driver's side door and climbed in behind the wheel.

Sam leaned down to pick up his shirt and dusted it off before putting it on. Turning his face up to the sun, he stood there for a few moments soaking up the warmth. Sometimes.... he wondered what they were doing...sometimes, he couldn't imagine living without it. Shoulders dropping almost imperceptibly Sam wandered over the pulled the passenger door open and slipped into the car.

-=-=-=-

Pulling up his selection of guns, Dean spread them out along the table top, humming an ACDC mash up under his breath as he gathered his cleaning supplies. To Dean, there was nothing more relaxing then cleaning his weapons, especially the night before a hunt that had the possibility to be brutal. Glancing at Sam over his shoulder he smirked and shook his head. Well, there was one _other_ thing that was pretty relaxing but they'd get to that later. "Wanna help?" He asked casually and dropped into the chair, pulling the closet gun to him.

"I s'pose." Sam trudged over and slumped down into the chair beside Dean's. "What you want me to do?" Spreading his fingers on the edge of the table he pressed his lips into a thin, pale line. The smell of gun oil was already strong - it always made Sam think of his brother.

"Disassemble?" He suggested, sliding a few guns his brother's way before picking up his own and setting out to do just that. "Won't make you use the gun oil, I know how you hate how it lingers on your skin." Dean chuckled softly and set the pieces of the gun out before him, reaching over for his cloth and gun oil.

"You gonna tease me our whole lives?" Sam picked a pistol and checked the barrel then began taking it apart. He knew why Dean did this, Dean knew these weapons inside and out - and their lives sometimes depended on them. The misfire of a gun could be the very thing that prevented them from walking away from a hunt. There were so many mixed up memories in Sam's mind of his father and his brother hunched over the kitchen table with knives and guns spread out on the table.

Glancing up at him as he rubbed the cloth into the cool metal, Dean smirked softly, "yeah that's kind of my prerogative isn't it? Older brother privilege and all." Shrugging he set the piece aside and grabbed another. "Got a problem with that?" He looked up at his brother and arched an eyebrow.

Shrugging a shoulder Sam fiddled with the barrel of the handgun he was holding. He spun the barrel a few times and laid the gun back on the table. "Does it ever get more... even as I get older? You know - does the dynamic ever change?" He wasn't quite sure what he wanted, maybe for Dean to treat him like he knew something, like he was older than sixteen.

The words made Dean stop in his motions, hand hesitating halfway through reaching for a piece of the gun Sam had just sat on the table. "Uh... haven't they changed already or did I miss something?" He asked slowly, trying to figure out what Sam wasn't saying underneath the question.

"Fuck, I don't know... I'm tired." Sam pushed the metal pieces away from him and leaned back in the chair watching his brother. "You like hunting yeah?" Sam let his head fall to the side and stretched his legs out under the table resting one over his brother's ankles.

Dean scoffed and rolled his shoulders, "yeah of course. I mean... it's all I know. What else would we do if we didn't hunt?" He arched his eyebrows and reclaimed the barrel to clean. "Besides, how could we stop hunting knowing what's out there?" Dean very rarely thought about life not hunting, mainly because it didn't seem like he had any potential for anything more. Sam he could see doing something but he wasn't that way. "Why... did you... don't you like hunting?" He asked slowly once more, unsure by this new line of conversation.

"No… Yes..." Sam shrugged wishing that Dean could just read his mind. "It's okay; it's what we do right?" Sam's eyes darted from Dean's to the pistol and then up out the window of the motel room. "There aren't enough hunters out there..." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. There weren't enough hunters - there were _never_ enough hunters. It made sense if you thought about it; a hunter had no family, no life really other than the daily research, preparation, maintenance and hunt. Repeat.

"Yeah." Dean nodded and went back to cleaning, falling into silence for awhile. "You know, we do this together. That's what makes it work. We're not like a lot of other hunters. We can keep up this life because of having each other." In a surprising show of affection, that even had him a little shocked, Dean set down the items in his hand and reached out to lay his hand on Sam's. "We can spend the rest of our lives hunting together Sam. It's what works for us."

It was crazy to feel thrilled by the touch of his brother's hand and scared by his words at the same time. _The rest of their lives_. Blinking, Sam stared at his brother's hand covering his and slowly fanned his fingers out so he could lift his hand and twine their fingers together. "What works..." he echoed. Rubbing his thumb over Dean's Sam smiled slightly. "Yeah, so ... you never wanted to do anything else? Be ... I don't know ... an artist? A cop?" Laughing softly Sam tightened his grip on Dean's hand, not wanting him to pull away. "Maybe not a cop."

"An artist?" Dean's eyebrow curved up once more and he laughed, shaking his head slowly. "Oh yeah, I can just imagine me painting some shit bohemian art or something. Maybe welding sculptures that show my _true brilliance_ ," Dean's laugh grew, reaching out with his free hand to pat Sam's before pulling both back and reclaiming the barrel and cloth to resume cleaning. "That's not my life, never will be. _This_ is what I do. What we do. What else is there?" He smiled at Sam before focusing his attention on his hands once more.

"There's ... nothing more." The words were hard to say. Forcing a smile Sam pushed back from the table and padded over to the bed to flop down on his stomach. Tucking his arms under his head he sighed and shifted his hips to get comfortable. Maybe this wasn't what he wanted. Maybe he wanted to be someone's lover - more than their brother - more than their hunting partner... or someone's husband... Sam often wondered what the hell he knew at his age about life, about relationships. He _did_ know that he wanted _more_ \- he just didn't know what that _more_ was.

"Okay..." Dean nodded and glanced at him before shrugging and going back to his cleaning. He could tell Sam was lost in thought, possibly about a subject Dean couldn't begin to touch. He considered pressing the topic but that wasn't in his nature. Dean trusted his brother to let him know if something was bothering him _too_ much. He knew his brother better than anyone in the entire world and sometimes the guy just got lost in thought. Whatever it was Sam would get over it, or talk to him about it, and they'd figure it out. Because they always did that, got through things. And no matter what happened, they'd be in this together and that was the most important thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Just like most mornings Sam woke up before Dean. He rolled over slowly and watched his brother for a while. His brother looked different when he was asleep, the lines in his face didn't seem as deep, his closed eyes were relaxed ... peaceful. Smiling, Sam shifted closer quietly, carefully and slid his arm across Dean's chest. The heat radiating off his brother felt good - Dean took a deep breath and rolled slightly. Sam froze for a few moments until he was certain that Dean was still asleep then pressed up against his brother's side and nuzzled into his neck. With the scent of Dean all around him, Sam could feel himself falling asleep again.

The moment his dreams faded, even before his eyes could pry apart, Dean felt the familiar anticipation that always sparked up in him before a hunt. Knowing that there was some creature out there, hurting people, Dean pulled himself from sleep and forced his eyes to open. "You up?" He asked in a half grunt, rolling over and sprawling mostly on top of his brother, blowing out a slow breath. "Is it before seven? Cause seriously? Fucking sucks..." Dean grumbled and dropped his head onto Sam's chest, too tired to move.

Sam smiled; creeping sneakily closer to Dean in the mornings was one of the many ways he'd devised to get Dean to be more physical with him. Snaking his arms around his brother's shoulders Sam buried his nose in Dean's hair. Sleep-sweat and the faint scent of Dean's shampoo; Sam's smile widened. "Wanna hunt baddies another day?" Sam pressed his lips to his brother's temple knowing that his sleep-softened brother would wake soon enough and pull away.

Sighing sleepily Dean shifted until his entire body was resting over Sam's, letting his full weight smother his brother. "God if only," he mumbled and tried to get his eyes to open once more. Sam was just so _warm_ and Dean wasn't sure he wanted to give it up yet. It was nice, waking up like this with his guard down and not instantly having to slam it back up. "Maybe it'll kill itself yeah?" Dean suggested hopeful and turned his head in the continuing effort to wake himself, lips sliding across Sam's chest.

Sam murmured his agreement, palms sliding down over the curve of Dean's back, the small of his back and the cleft of his ass. "We got a little while..." Sam's voice was low, quiet in the chill of the room. He brushed his lips along his brother's eyebrow and down over his cheek then pressed a kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth. "You need a shave."

"Think I'll grow a beard," Dean muttered if only because he hardly had the motivation to do more than continue to settle his weight over Sam's. "I could be a big, bushy, mountain man. You like your guys rough around the edges yeah?" Dean chuckled and finally got his eyes to stay open, head tilting up to bring his lips over Sam's.

"Dude...beards are nasty..." Sam nipped at Dean's bottom lip and tugged on it. "You havin' a shower before we go?" Squeezing Dean's ass Sam sighed happily and tucked his heel over his brother's leg. Sometimes, it wasn't so bad... the whole being with Dean thing.

Pushing back Dean rolled off his brother, flopping over the side of the bed and standing. "Nah, I'll just shower after. This has fuckin' mess written all over it," Dean shrugged, wishing he didn't feel so cold now that he wasn't lying on Sam. "You gonna? We should probably head out soon..." he grumbled and headed to his duffel.

Sam's heart clenched in his chest for some reason. "Come back... just ten more minutes." He held his hand out and gave Dean his best _puppy dog eyes_. Dean's favourite description not Sam's. It just felt ... important.

Glancing over at his brother Dean's lips quirked up in a slight smile as his head dipped down, "c'mon Sam, they'll be plenty of time for that later. Tell you what, we kill this piece of shit and we can spend the rest of the weekend in bed." His heart quickened at the suggestion before he turned back to his bag to claim a pair of jeans.

Rolling over to face his brother Sam dropped his hand. "Please? I... you remember when I was a kid... and I used to get bad feelings about things?" Sam rubbed at his furrowed brow.

"Feelings?" Dean stopped his searching and stood, walking over to him with a slight smile, jeans in his fingers. "You mean like the time you felt something was wrong with dad and we didn't hear from him for a week?"

"Yeah," Sam rubbed his hands hard into his eyes. "Maybe we should just ... wait - go tomorrow or something." Staring up at his brother Sam picked at a thread on the quilt. He'd never been able to describe the feeling to anyone; it was like something felt wrong...something along his back...almost like someone was dragging a cold finger down it.

Dean's smile took on a reassuring quality and he reached out to ruffle Sam's hair. "I'm sure it's just fine Sam. You're gonna have my back right?" He laughed and stepped back to pull his jeans on. "And I'll have yours so we're good okay?" He nodded and did the fastens on his jeans.

Frustrated, Sam rolled to the side of the bed and paced over to his brother. Pulling Dean into a rough hug he felt his stomach tying in knots. "Okay," he murmured against the warm skin of Dean's shoulder. Closing his eyes for a few moments Sam took a deep breath.

Surprised by the slight shake of Sam's shoulders Dean wrapped his arm around him in a tight hug. No matter how much he teased his brother at times, Dean would always comfort him. "There's nothing to suggest this hunt's going to be any different Sam. We'll be just fine," he insisted softly and rubbed Sam's back in small circles, hand sliding up to cup the back of his neck and pull him back. Meeting his eyes, Dean smiled and dipped forward to brush their lips together. "If we get there and it looks pretty dangerous we'll leave okay?"

Nodding silently Sam let go of his brother reluctantly and back away slowly. He hated when he got the feeling that things just weren't right. Finally turning toward his duffel he pulled out some clean clothes and started to get dressed. He would just make sure, if he saw anything wrong, had even the slightest inclination that things were gonna head south - he'd get Dean out of there. Tucking his t-shirt into his jeans Sam snatched a pair of socks out of his bag and slumped down to sit on the edge of the bed. "Eating first?"

"Not real hungry but I think there's some pop tarts in the bag," Dean gestured to the bag and headed to his own to get his shirt. "We can stop and get coffee," he murmured and pulled his necklace out from under his shirt.

Sam slid an arm into his jacket and swung it around his shoulders. His stomach was nothing but acid and worry. "I don't want anything." Scratching at the back of his neck he pushed up off the bed and then stuffed his hands in his pockets. "M'ready."

Taking his time through the rest of getting ready Dean let himself consider Sam's unpleasant feeling. Chances were it was nothing but it still sparked up a slight worry in him. It wasn't like Sam had some special future knowing ability but there'd been more than one occasion where those feelings had been right. That was enough to spark his senses, make him more alert and aware. "Okay, let's go," he finally said, grabbing his keys from the table and heading for the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob, turning around to face his brother. "Sammy, c'mere," he said softly and offered his hand.

Eyes moving up to his brother's slowly, Sam stepped forward and slid his fingers against Dean's palm. The comfort that flooded through him from that simple touch made his close his eyes for a few moments.

Pulling him in Dean crushed their mouths together with the firm slide of lips for a long few minutes before trailing off with the gentle slip forward of his tongue. "I got you okay? Nothing bad is going to happen," he insisted softly, fingers spreading through the hair at the base of Sam's neck.

Forehead pressed against his brother's, Sam nodded slowly. "Okay," he whispered, "let's do this." It hadn't changed the way he felt but at least now he knew that Dean took him seriously.

-=-=-=-=-

They'd been hiking for what felt like about three days - but that could just have been Sam's apprehension and that fact that his feet were aching. They had a pretty good idea from the map they'd plotted disappearances on that they were in the right spot but that didn't mean the damn Wendigo was just going to pop out of the bush and wave. Sam was following far too close behind Dean and every time his brother stopped to re-orient or because he heard something Sam would bump into him. Each time, Sam would slip his cold hand under the edge of Dean's jacket - just to feel the warmth of his brother through his shirt.

The entrance to the cave the Wendigo likely lived in was very well hidden and chances were they'd stumbled upon it by luck. Dean had been admittedly a little distracted by his brother almost glued to his form and they'd taken a few wrong turns. So when he caught sight of the entrance, his back stiffened and he glanced over his shoulder to peer at Sam before nodding and sliding forward. They shifted into fighting stance almost automatically. Dean curled his fingers around the silver blade and shifted forward, eyes narrowing at the entrance, ears focused intently for even the slightest noises to suggest where the Wendigo might be.

Sam was hardly breathing. Tightening his grip on his knife he turned as quietly as he could to a better angle for covering Dean's back. There didn't seem to be anything behind them but Sam had no doubt that in addition to being a kick-ass hunter this thing was probably well camouflaged. Sam's eyes swept back and forth the edge of the thick brush, head tilted slightly to the side.

As expected the cave was dark and Dean wasted no time in pulling out his flashlight and sweeping the beam in quick arcs along the path before them. Something echoed along the wall up ahead and Dean's light shot in that direction. Stepping a few quick paces forward Dean's shoulders tensed, eyes peering through the darkness. Sam's heat disappeared as his steps lengthened. He wanted this whole thing to be over and done with; creatures like this shouldn't be roaming around. Something loud clattered to the side of him and he turned sharply, dropping his flashlight with a low curse.

Wind rushed past his side as he bent to reclaim the light and fell suddenly into darkness. "Sam?" he called suddenly as something brushed hard into his shoulder. Fingers tightening around the blade in his hand he swung it up, aiming for the second rush of air and flinching back at the sharp hiss as his blade connected. "Sam! Light!' He called once more so his brother would know where he was.

Stumbling forward toward his brother's voice Sam's flashlight whipped across the cave wall then down into the tunnel ahead of him. "Dean?" He called out, the sounds around him echoing back at him and giving him absolutely no idea what was going on. _A boot_. Sliding the light up Dean's leg Sam managed to get the circle of light around his brother's chest and face. "Where?" Knife shaking in the light Sam shifted closer, turning slowly, coiled and ready to strike.

"It's fuckin' fast," Dean said lowly, pressing into his brother's side as his swept through the darkness. Bringing his blade up to the light Dean's face scrunched up with mild disgust. "Definitely injured it. Find the blood trail," he whispered and reached out to tilt Sam's flashlight down, sweeping it across the cave floor. Something skittered once more along the far wall and Dean tensed, ears tuned into the noise.

Eyes straining to see the difference between blood and the regular dust and dirt on the floor of the cave Sam moved slowly. "Dean... here..." Dark red splotches, already being absorbed by the ground. Sam lowered his voice and turned lifting the flashlight slowly. Something glinted in the darkness behind his brother, "Drop!" Sam's voice reverberated through the cave, the flashlight slipped off Dean as Sam lifted the knife up over his shoulder. He swung hard but not in time. The flashlight slipped out of his grasp and rolled lazily across the cave taking the circle of safely with it. Dean's body whipped past Sam.

As things often happened in Dean's life, everything changed in the blink of an eye. One moment he was standing beside his brother and the next something solid was connected with his back. "Sa-" he only managed half his brother's name before a sharp pain drove hard enough through his chest to send his mind reeling. Dean had been injured before but this pain flared through him so intensely his knees gave out, vision blurred, and he tried to suck in a breath but it felt like he was drowning.

Eyes darting around uselessly in the darkness Sam couldn't help flinching. Finally, he bolted across the cave and snatched the flashlight off the floor. The beam of light wavered in his grasp, shaking its way across the cave. Sam's ears were picking up every sound. Finally the circle of light found his brother again. "Dean..." Sam hissed as he dove across the cave to kneel behind his brother where he'd fallen. "Dean... talk to me..." Crouching low over Dean, knife poised, Sam's fingers moved slowly down his brother's arm.

Everything burned in him, pain coursing through him in waves of intensity. "S-Sammy..." he whispered, throat tightening around the words. It was _too much_. His mind was on overload and darkness was closing in on the edges of his vision, a different sort of darkness then the one of the cave. "H-hurts..." he gasped. Dean could feel the cold, the burn, the way his lungs refused to take in a full breath. Reaching out Dean fumbled with thin air for a moment before curling his fingers around his brother's pant leg, a silent plea that he be as careful as possible.

When it came at them again, the Wendigo came quickly. Stepping forward over Dean, feeling his brother's fingers still gripping his pant leg Sam squared his shoulders and swung the knife. The blade sliced through the creature's chest and it screeched out a cry that was ear-splitting. Wincing, ears ringing Sam forced himself to hold his ground. The creature made a second sweep and _this_ time, spurred on by the protective instinct flaring in him Sam stabbed the knife forward, free hand slamming the handle home as it pierced the chest of the creature. The sound of the silver blade sinking into the putrid flesh was disgusting. Unable to look away - Sam watched as the creature almost seemed to fold in on itself - it's inhumanly long, pale limbs curled around the knife as Sam released it and it sank down on to its knees. Lifting his leg Sam slammed his foot hard against the butt of the knife feeling it slide straight back into the animated carcass. The Wendigo crumpled back down onto the ground of the cave and it drew a final shuddering breath.

Panting, hands shaking at his sides Sam was still for a few moments then he swung around and sank to his knees beside Dean. "I .. I got 'im Dean." But his brother's eyes were closed and his skin was pale even in the faint glow from the flashlight that still lay where it had fallen. Scrabbling for the flashlight in on the dirt covered stone of the cave Sam finally felt the cool metal with his finger tips and grabbed it. Trembling he turned the flashlight back toward Dean. His brother was out cold. Pressing his fingers to Dean's forehead Sam winced at how cold Dean's skin was. Just like they'd both been taught when they were little more than kids, Sam moved his hands slowly down his brother's body checking for injuries. Dean's pulse was weak but there, chest rising and falling shallowly, there was a strange bump under the skin by his ribs and Sam winced. At least a broken rib and he had no idea how bad it was. His fingers moved across the rib gently and he watched as pain flitted across his brother's face. "Okay Dean..." Sam sucked in a breath, "gonna get you to help."

There was no way Sam was leaving his brother in the cave. To begin with, he wasn't a hundred per cent certain that there wasn't another creature somewhere near and he had no idea how long it was going to take him to get back to the car. Sam had a pretty remarkable sense of direction but it was getting dark and they hadn't brought much with them. Sliding one arm under Dean's neck Sam pushed up to a crouch then slipped his other arm under his brother's knees. Staggering up to his feet Sam adjusted the dead weight of his brother's body. "God ... Dean..." It took Sam a few steps to adjust his balance to walk almost normally and by the time he reached the mouth of the cave he was moving as fast as he could.

If Sam had thought that the hike in to the cave was long it was because he hadn't bargained on carrying his brother back out. It was sheer determination that kept Sam moving, one foot in front of the other, each pace a step closer to getting Dean the help he needed. There were drawbacks. Sam had a lot of time to think while he was trudging along, nearly stumbling and catching himself. He thought about how it was _his_ fault this had happened. He'd fumbled the flashlight when it counted most and even though he'd spotted the damn creature behind Dean he hadn't been fast enough to get Dean out of the way. If something happened to his brother...

Glancing down at Dean every so often Sam kept moving. He only stopped a few times. Twice he stopped to restore the feeling in his arms - eyes never leaving his brother's face as he paced back and forth swinging his arms. Dean didn't wake up once on the trip back to the car and Sam's anxiety was like a ball of acid in his gut. The third time Sam stopped he lay his brother gently on the ground and smoothed Dean's hair back from his forehead. Dean's skin was so pale Sam could see the outline of his veins under his parchment like skin. Fear began to inch its way through Sam's body and his fingers moved restlessly over Dean's body once again. Just above the waist band of his brother's jeans, the flesh felt hard, swollen, slightly distended and Sam felt the blood in his own veins run cold. Heaving Dean up into his arms again Sam stumbled forward once more, spurred on the his renewed urgency. "Hang on Dean, I'm gonna get ... gonna..." Sam bit back his own words as tears pricked at his eyes. Sucking in a deep breath Sam growled out, "you _fucking_ hang on."

When Sam finally caught a glimpse of the Impala through the trees he had never felt so relieved in his entire life. "We made it Dean, put ya," he grunted as he crouched down beside the car, "in the back seat of your baby and get you to the hospital." Settling Dean down on the ground for long enough to yank the door open Sam turned quickly and slid his brother's inert body along the back seat. Panting quietly for a few moments Sam allowed himself a few seconds of rest, leaning down over his brother's head to rest their cheeks together. _So cold._

The drive to the hospital was a blur. Sam spoke quietly to his brother for the entire trip. He apologized for not having his back in the cave, spoke about how mad their father would be if here were there, even went so far as to joke with Dean about _never telling Dad._. Mile after mile seemed to roll under the tires before they finally pulled up in front of the hospital. Sam stumbled through the emergency room doors, clutching his brother to his chest and finally - when Dean was on a gurney and being wheeled away from him Sam sank down to his knees. Exhausted, worried and drained he kneeled there in the middle of the emergency room until an orderly came and helped him over to the admitting desk. They went through the usual routine, fake health insurance and I.D., questions about Dean's allergies, past surgeries or injuries. Sam provided what he could and was then told he'd wait in a private family waiting room while they _did what they could_ for Dean. Even as, yet another orderly was guiding Sam down the hall Sam found himself calling out to the nurse. "What do you mean _do what you can_?"

He paced. Time had become completely unremarkable to Sam. When he looked at the time on his watch he couldn't even remember it long enough to judge how much time had passed since the last time he checked. But the minute hand was still moving, and no one came into the room. After an hour, maybe two, Sam really had no idea - he went out in to the hallway and managed to scrounge up enough change from his pockets to buy himself a soda. The sugar was like a rush through his system; Sam had no idea how long it had been since he last ate. When the Doctor finally came to speak to him Sam had been awake for well over twenty-four hours, eaten nothing and was nearly out of his mind with worry. The Doctor's words made their way into Sam's brain slowly, one at a time until it started to make sense to him. _Punctured lung, internal bleeding, did what we could, nothing more we can do, Hours._ Sam was sure his heart had stopped beating at some point because it really felt like he couldn't breathe. He argued, railed at the unfairness of it all. Sam told the doctor that Dean was a fighter, had always been a fighter and it wasn't until the moment he saw the sympathy in the Doctor's eyes that Sam realized what was going on.

 _There was nothing more they could do for Dean._

Sam couldn't remember if he asked to see Dean, or if the Doctor suggested it. He simply noticed the change in his surroundings; the calm, muffled sound of the waiting room became the overly bright hallway bustling with hospital staff. A door opened in front of him and Sam was pressed into a room full of mechanical sounds. Dean looked small, smaller than Sam had even seen him, nestled into the clean white of the hospital bed. There were tubes everywhere, a respirator pumping air into Dean's lungs, an IV in his arm, a drain coming out of his chest. Sam gasped in a breath of air and stood, staring, willing Dean to open his eyes. There was a pain in Sam's chest unlike anything he'd ever felt. Forcing himself to move he sank into the chair beside his brother's bed and leaned forward, propping his chin up on his hands and staring up at Dean's face. Closing his eyes he struggled to keep breathing, _in_ and _out_. He hoped that when he opened his eyes Dean would be looking down at him with the teasing glint in his eyes but nothing had changed.

"Dean..." Sam squeezed his eyes shut against the ache of tears, "I... tried hard to get you back here fast enough." His hands moved away from his face to settle on Dean's hand. As he picked up the warm weight of his brother's fingers, Sam found it hard to believe that there was no fight left in his brother. There was no way he knew how to ... _be_ without Dean, without the firm grasp of his brother's fingers on his shoulder, no warmth pressed up against him at night, no green eyes glinting with mischief. _No Dean_. Skidding the chair forward Sam slid his arm across his brother's thighs and rested his head against Dean's hip. When a nurse slipped into the room all she heard were Sam's sobs drifting up over his trembling shoulders. Sam didn't even hear the door click shut behind her when she backed out.

"Well well, there's never a more pleasant sight than a crying Hunter," the man across the room appeared from nowhere, arms folded across his chest as he leaned back against the wall. His features were feminine in many ways, a smooth jaw line, slanted blue eyes, long blond hair pulled back and loosely tied, hanging between his shoulder blades. The coat along his shoulders was velvet blue, slick and smooth. "Especially you Winchesters. The pair of you, I swear it's like my own private _Young and the Restless_. How could I possibly resist _this_ temptation?" The man smiled, eyes glinting in the dull electrical light of the hospital.

The tone of the voice was enough to kick Sam's awareness into high gear. It was _wrong_. Arm tightening protectively over Dean's hips Sam turned his head slightly - glancing behind them. Not even bothering to wipe at the tears on his face Sam stared at the stranger, brow furrowed. "Who...what do you want?" Not even conscious of it, Sam shifted to present more of a barrier between the intruder and his brother. He didn't even bother asking how the man knew his name. Just another sign that their lives were unusual - nearly every bad-news-bearing stranger knew who the Winchesters were.

"What can I say? I've got a thing for the melodramatic," the man rolled his shoulders in a shrug and brushed off a fleck of dirt that had settled on his shoulders. "You really know how to work those tears Sammy boy, seriously, I'd say you have an academy award nailed down," chuckling the man smoothed back his long hair and sighed. "To be fair I think you should thank Dean in your acceptance speech, after all, he is the one _dying_."

Straightening up slightly Sam's upper lip curled into a snarl. "Just spit out what you want then leave... and _don't_ talk about my brother..." Hatred was blazing in Sam's eyes - he didn't care what supernatural piece-of-shit was trying to taunt him - there were some things he just couldn't take.

Sighing dramatically the man shifted his shoulders and snapped his fingers, chair appearing out of thin air beside the bed. " _Relax_ Sam, I'm here to help," he huffed, as if indignant that Sam would even suggest he had ulterior motives.

There are times in everyone’s life when they make mistakes and Sam supposed this was as good a time as any to make a big one. "What can you do to help?" Fingers moving back to thread through his brother's Sam's eyes moved up the smooth skin of Dean's chest to his face - so different, relaxed, void of emotion. Leaning down he rested his head against Dean's hip again, eyes moving back to settle on the stranger. His blue eyes were piercing, cold, and Sam found he had to look away.

"The only thing that would help," the man mused and sat in the large chair, crossing his ankle to rest along his knee. "I can heal him. Make him one hundred percent better as if nothing ever happened."

Sighing, Sam closed his eyes against the spark of desperation that was growing in his chest. " _If_ you can do anything... there will be a catch - something that I won't do - something Dean wouldn't want me to do. So," turning slowly Sam faced the _man_ again, "just tell me so I can say no and you can leave us alone."

The man laughed and shook his head, blond hair scattering across his back. "There's _always_ a catch Sam, you think I save people from certain death for nothing? But really, it's nothing you have to worry about, hell; I think it might even be what you _want_. You say okay, I heal Dean, then you get to choose any place in the world and I'll send you there to live a nice and happy life. Of course it'll be without your brother but hey I'm a nice guy, I'll make the transition real easy on you both." He finished with a shrug and brought his hair forward over his shoulder to stroke slowly.

Sam's eyes followed the man's fingers as they stroked sensuously through his blond locks. "I could _never_ have a happy life without my brother..." Sam's eyes darkened as the spark of hope was doused. "Get out. Leave us alone." The muscles across Sam's chest tightened painfully once more and he shifted back, rubbed at the back of his neck and turned his eyes back to his brother's face. Dean's lashes were so dark against his pale skin. Sam ran his finger along the edge of them then cupped his hand over his brother's cool cheek.

"Now now Sam, don't be so hasty," the man scoffed and picked at the ends of his hair. "You only have two options here. Say no to me and Dean dies, and you're right, you won't have a happy life without your brother. But say _yes_ and Dean lives. Not only that but you both get a fresh start. I'll wipe both your memories of the last couple of years and it'll be just like you went off to school when you turned eighteen like you wanted to. And your brother, he can be whatever you want. Neither of you will have to hunt again. So yeah, you won't be together but you'll still be brothers and you'll never know you were anything more than that. Sounds pretty fair to me."

The crazy thing was that Sam couldn't think of a single reason to say no. But, he knew there was always some sort of catch. Nothing with powers, nothing they'd ever met with any abilities did _something_ for _nothing_. "You know ... I ... I don't have ... I'm pretty much fucked here." Sam's voice wavered. "I don't take what you're offering and I sit here and watch my brother die. I accept this..." he looked over at the man once more, "and I lose ... what we have." Staring up at those icy blue eyes Sam shook his head slowly.

"But see, that's the absolute most brilliant thing," the man laughed and pushed up from his chair, stepping to the edge of Dean's bed and curling his fingers along the foot board. "You won't remember a _thing_. Dean will still be that awesome big brother you had that was always there for you and still managed to piss you off at times as brother's do. I can send you anywhere you'd like. Wanna go to Stanford like you always dreamed about? Be a lawyer, settle down, have a nice and normal life? Done." He smiled brightly and something flashed temporarily in his eyes.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "Dean and I ... we weren't..." glancing back at his brother's face Sam moved his fingers softly over Dean's freckled cheeks. "We weren't as close before... and... I knew that if I went to school..." Sam knew that if Stanford had been in the picture things between them would have been different. Everything would have been different. Hunting together, learning to rely on one another, learning to read every emotion, every line of his brother's shoulders and what it meant - none of that would have happened if Sam had gone away to school. "He would have... he didn't want me to leave for school..."

"Well alright, so things might not be completely peachy keen between the two of you," the man shrugged once more and shook his head, resuming stroking his hair once more as his thighs rested against the foot board. "But honestly Sam, should it even be a hard choice? Dean lives and you two maybe don't have the same type of relationship but you'll be _happy_ or Dean dies and you go on some reckless hunting spree until you die too. Can't you make that sacrifice for your brother’s life? And like I keep insisting, you won't _remember_ that there was anything more anyway," he sighed softly and rolled his eyes at Sam's reluctance.

"He won't know? He won't remember that any of this happened..." Sam's eyes were moving over his brother's familiar features and he tried to imagine what it would be like - having Dean look at him the way he used to, like they hardly knew each other. "And ... I won't know... what I lost..." Sam's heart was thudding dully in his chest and he wasn't even sure he agree to something that took Dean away from him.

"Right," the man nodded and rolled his fingers over the lapel of his velvet blue suit coat. "Tick tock Sam, Dean's only got a few hours left and this is a limited time offer," he tapped at a watch that suddenly materialized on his wrist.

"I want to know he's okay." Sam closed his eyes against the tears that were burning acid-like in his eyes. "I want to see him wake up, know that he's safe - if that can happen, then you do it. If that can't happen..." he cleared his throat weakly, "then ... no." Sam had been tricked before. If he couldn't see that Dean was alive, breathing on his own, there was no way that he was going through with anything.

"Yeah yeah, I'll do that, but you don't get to warn Dean what's going on, not fair to the poor man's brain," the man tapped at his temple and stepped around the bed to Sam's side. "You know I've got to make this thing official. I need you to tell me you want me to heal Dean. And then take your memories away and send you to wherever it is you'd like to relocate," the man smiled wide at him, eyes glinting in the fluorescent light.

Blinking a few times Sam sat back, eyes drifting up to the _creature's_ icy blue gaze. "I want you to heal Dean. T..Take my memories away and then... give me the life I would have had if I had gone to Stanford and Dean..." Pausing, Sam looked back at his brother, sighed and shook his head. What would Dean do if he didn't hunt? Swallowing, throat tight and dry, Sam's brow furrowed. "Can you just make it so he never knew hunting? So ... he'll just find something that makes him happy?"

"Can't change his whole life Sam, doesn't work that way. But don't worry, I'll make sure he's taken care of," he nodded and his lips grew into a wide smile. "It's a deal." Shifting forward, the man laid his hands on Dean's chest, prodding his fingers into the bandages.

It was like watching a TV show and having the reception blink out for an almost imperceptible amount of time. In the space of a heartbeat everything changed. Sam's eyelids fluttered as brain tried to process what had happened. The colour was back in Dean's cheeks, his breathing deep and peaceful and there was no respirator. The man was gone... his brother... was alive. "Dean?" Sam shifted forward in the chair picking up his brother's hand and pressing his lips to the warm skin of Dean's palm. "Dean? You awake?"

"Hmm..." Dean murmured sleepily and rolled toward the familiar sound of his brother. "Sammy?" He whispered, trying to force himself from the weird sort of haze covering his mind.

It was suddenly entirely too much; the sound of his brother's voice, knowing what he had to give up in a matter of moments. The joy that should have filled his heart at seeing his brother moving, whispering his name was completely eclipsed by the pain that was just around the corner. Sam pressed his thumb and finger hard into his eyes, body shuddering, shoulders curling forward as he tried to hide his sobs. Taking a few deep breaths Sam dropped his hand and forced a smile onto his face. "Hey... you're gonna be... o...kay." He pressed his hand to Dean's cheek, thumb smoothing across his brother's soft skin. "I ... it's gonna be..." Sam took a few moments to steady himself again. "I love you _so_ much, Dean. Too much..." Tugging his t-shirt up, Sam wiped his face and blew out a long breath. "You're gonna be safe now." He pushed up to shaky legs, threading his fingers through his brother's hair one last time. The only thing that kept him going was the promise that he wouldn't remember this - and that somehow that might stop the hurt that was burning into his chest as he stepped backwards from the bed.

The man silently appeared once more moments before Dean fell back into sleep, to do anything more than give Sam a soft smile and a nod. "He still needs a little rest," the man said quietly and extended his hand to lay on Sam's shoulder. "It's time to go Sam. Don't worry, I'll be back for Dean." Lip twitching into a slight smirk he spun Sam and levelled an even gaze at him. "Ready?"

Gaze never wavering from his brother's face, Sam nodded and closed his eyes.

Fingers raising once more, the man pressed two fingers into Sam's temple and in a flash he was gone. When he returned moments later he stared down at the older Winchester on the bed and rested his fingers along Dean's brow, erasing any memory he may have had of waking to hear Sam's last deceleration of love. Lips curving into a smirk, he slid back and disappeared, ready to return when Dean woke several hours later.

-=-=-=-

Dean woke to the sound of a heart monitor beating in steady rhythm against his ears. He winced, preparing himself for the wave of pain that was like bound to wash over him at any moment. Only there was no pain, nothing at all, Dean didn’t even feel the buzz from the medicine likely pumping into his system through the IV in his arm. Groaning, he rolled his head to the side and let his eyes flutter open, looking around the room. “Sam?” He asked through a hoarse whisper, blinking against the electrical lights beaming down on him.

The room was empty and Dean frowned, pushing himself up into a sitting position and sighing in relief when there was no spark of pain. Looking around Dean tried to spot a sign of his brother, a coat on the chair or something, but there was nothing. Frown deepening, Dean dropped his legs off the side of the bed and pulled at the machines attached to his body, unhooking himself so he could stand. Dean didn’t so much as sway as he headed for the door, pulling it open and peering out. The hall was empty, just a few nurses down near the counter and Dean’s heart skipped oddly as he narrowed his eyes.

Clearly unhooking himself had caught someone’s attention because a nurse was by his side in the next instant, eyes wide. “Sir you shouldn’t be out of your bed… Jesus you shouldn’t even be _alive_ , please come sit down, I’ll go get a doctor,” she ushered him back into the room, pressing a hand into his shoulder to force him down onto the mattress.

“Wait, I… the guy who brought me in…” Dean looked at her with pleading eyes, not certain what names Sam would have used or if he acted more like a worried brother or a worried lover. Those lines were blurred between them too easily. “Have you seen him?”

The nurse frowned, hooking him back up to the heart monitor as she fussed around his bed. “No one brought you in. You were just found on the side of the road. I better go get the doctor… god I don’t even know how you’re…” She blinked at him, shaking her head before turning and heading out of the room.

“No one… hey wait,” Dean tried to climb out of the bed after her but the door swung shut and the pads stuck to his chest kept him in place. _No one brought you in_. “Fuck, Sam,” Dean’s heart leapt in panic and the machine sped up. Something had happened to his brother, he needed to get out of here and go find him. Had the Wendigo gotten him? Or something worse? “ _Fuck_ ,” Dean spat and once more tore at the wires stuck on his chest.

“Whoa Dean, slow your roll, wouldn’t want to get locked up for a suicide risk or something would you?” The man appeared out of nowhere beside the window, brushing at the lapel on his velvet blue suit coat.

Dean tensed, eyes fixing on the man. Hunter sense told him right away that the guy was no good. “Who the fuck are you and what did you do with my brother?” He growled, eyes narrowing on the man.

“ _Relax_ Dean, Sammy is perfectly safe. Pleasantly happy even,” the man smiled in what would have been an innocent way if his eyes hadn’t glinted with something wicked. “So how you feeling Winchester? Lung re-inflated? Rib back in place?”

“Where. Is. My. Brother.” Dean growled the words, narrowed eyes fixed on the smooth lines of the man’s effeminate face.

“Jeez it’s like no one trusts me in this place,” the man muttered and curved his fingers, inspecting his nails with bored eyes. “He’s happy as a clam in sunny California alright?” The man poked at a cuticle and looked up at Dean with a casual shrug.

“You’re lying,” Dean stated as if there were no other option. There was no logic to explain Sam being in California. Dean had no idea how long he’d been out of it but it definitely couldn’t have been long enough to give his brother enough time to get across the country and start a brand new life.

“Honestly Dean, why would I lie to you?” The man huffed in annoyance. “I _healed_ you. Lying now would be a mute point.”

“Why would he go to California?” Dean asked in confusion, afraid to believe that Sam could really be gone. It didn’t make any sense at all. And who was this random guy to supposedly have healed him.

The man’s boredom and annoyance fell away, replaced by something glinting and dark. “Oh, didn’t you know Dean? Guess you weren’t man enough for dear Sammy. He wanted _more_ and you just weren’t living up to the expectations he had.”

The words sank through Dean’s system like a physical blow. All the secret thoughts and fears Dean had been dealing with for months now. He tried to tell himself that the man was lying but the fact remained that Sam wasn’t _here_. “You… you’ve done something to him. You’ve got him trapped somewhere. If you’ve hurt him I’ll kill you,” Dean spat and surged out of bed, tugging the machines with him despite their protest.

Laughing the man stepped out of Dean’s reach and held his hands up, “calm down Dean. I haven’t done a _thing_ to harm your brother. Go to Stanford, you’ll find him there like I said. Nice and happy. All the pretty little hairs on his head in their appropriate places.”

As hard as Dean tried to deny it, the man’s words seemed to weigh on his shoulders, pressing in on him like a cold truth. “He… he wouldn’t just leave me… we… that’s not Sam. He wouldn’t just…” Dean shook his head, slowly sinking back down onto the mattress.

“Well no, he didn’t _just_ leave. He had his memories erased first but don’t feel too bad Dean, he had me heal you first like I said.” The man sighed and stepped toward him. “I can see by the look on your face, here let me show you,” raising his hand the man laid the tips of his fingers against Dean’s forehead and pressed in hard.

Images blurred and shifted in front of Dean’s mind and his heart clenched as Sam’s image swam to the front, words crisp and clear spoken in that familiar tone. _”I want you to heal Dean. Take my memories away and then... give me the life I would have had if I had gone to Stanford.”_

The image faded away and Dean blinked in the clearing hospital room. The pain in his heart was impossibly tight, clenching hard enough to make his body scream in protest. “That’s… you made that… it’s not real… Sam wouldn’t… why would…” Dean sucked in a sharp breath and pushed off the bed, tearing at the pads the nurse had hastily slapped back on his chest. “I gotta get there. He knows me. You forced him too… I gotta get him back. Make him know… it’ll be different. Better. I can be better. More.” He muttered the words as his hands fumbled for his clothes laid across the chair.

“Hey Dean, what part of don’t remember don’t you understand? What are you gonna do? Somehow I don’t imagine randomly appearing at your brother’s school and making out with him is gonna go over so well. So why don’t you just sit back and relax?” The man suggested and laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean rolled out of the touch, growling out a threat and stepping into his jeans. They were dirt and blood stained but he didn’t care. He’s climb out the window if he had too. “Sam _loves_ me. He wouldn’t just leave me like this.”

The man sighed and shook his head, “well, I can only convince you so much. Hey look it doesn’t all have to be so bad. I can erase your memories too if you’d like. I could put you anywhere. Wanna be a professional football player? Rockstar? _Oh_ Tom Cruise’s secret gay lover? I could so do that.”

For a moment Dean just looked at him before scoffing and shaking his head. "I'm going to California. I don't know what the fuck you are but I don't trust you in any way. When I get to Sam he'll clear this up."

"Whatever you want," the man shrugged and slid back, disappearing a moment later.

-=-=-=-

Less than an hour later Dean had managed to sneak out of the hospital and head to the motel, gathering up both his and Sam's stuff and pointedly ignoring the aching in his heart that suggested that the man wasn't lying. He didn't even hesitate in hopping onto the nearest highway and speeding off toward California. The knowledge that Sam loved him and would never purposefully hurt him played on repeat through his mind, the only thing to keep him going through the seemingly endless drive.

Dean didn't remember much about the fight against the Wendigo, just that it hadn't gone well and he'd been really badly injured. So the truth stood that _something_ had healed him but that didn't necessarily mean it had been that random guy, who or whatever he was. Along the drive Dean called their father, not too surprised when he didn't answer, and left a brief message asking about his brother and if he'd heard from him.

After a solid twenty four hours driving Dean _had_ to stop and sleep before he crashed the car and it was during this time that his dad called back. The voice mail did very little to calm the panic in his mind.

 _Dean what's going on with you? What did you mean had I heard from Sam? You know he and I don't talk since he left for school. You hit your head or somethin'? Call me back to let me know you're not dead._

Dean didn't call him back, simply slid behind the steering wheel and sped off toward California as fast as possible.

It was mid day when he pulled up to the Stanford campus. Dean didn't know where to begin looking but he _knew_ Sam so he went with his gut instinct and headed for the library. His brother wasn't anywhere amongst the shelves or tables, no matter what floor Dean searched, and it was just as he was heading down the steps to the large building that he caught site of the man.

For a moment his heart quickened, spotting the wide smile on his lips, the way his honey brown hair glistened in the sunshine. A smile twitched on Dean's lips as he took a few steps toward him. His steps faltered and died just moments later when a petite girl with bouncy blond hair skidded up to Sam, jumping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. Dean watched with wide eyes as Sam's wide hand cupped along the back of her neck, head tilting back in a laugh before he brought her forward for a kiss, free arm slung loosely low on her waist.

The air was sucked sharply out of Dean's lungs, pain curling so tightly around his heart his knees dipped. He swallowed thickly and turned, stumbling away into the small grove of trees before Sam could spot him. It was true. It had all been true.

"I warned you not to come here," the man said from his side, lifting the collar of his velvet blue suit coat and running his fingers along the crease. "Why are you Winchesters such masochists?" He snorted and rolled his eyes, bumping into Dean's shoulders as the man stumbled forward through the trees. "So what would you like Dean? I can wipe this all away. I can make you _whatever_ you want. All this pain will just disappear and you'll never remember."

Dean dropped heavily against the side of his car, tears burning along the rims of his eyes. "No. I don't want you to take any of them," his voice was hollow as he forced the words out. "I never want to forget. Just leave me alone."

The man laughed and nodded, "see, proving my point. Alright, have it your way Dean. I'll see you around."

With that he was gone but Dean didn't notice. All he could see was the image of the happy smile on his brother's face, the pretty blond against his body. Dean was unaccustomed to the feeling of heart break and it tore through him now on a level he never thought possible.

-=-=-=-

Bobby Singer woke on an average Wednesday and went about his usual business. He made himself a pot of coffee and some toast, padded through his kitchen with half open eyes. It wasn't until mid morning that he emerged from his house, intending to head into town for some milk and eggs. His step hesitated three paces outside his front door, eyes growing wide as they fixed on the shiny black 1967 Chevy Impala sitting in his parking lot. Spinning in a slow 360, Bobby looked for any sign of Dean Winchester attached to the vehicle but there was nothing. Upon closer exploration Bobby found the keys resting on the hood. There was no note, no Dean, just an abandoned car and the suggestion that Dean Winchester had no intention of ever being found again.


	3. Chapter 3

Even after it happened, Dean was never completely certain how he'd ended up in New Orleans. After leaving the Impala at Bobby's he'd made the decision that he needed to settle somewhere, make some sort of money, and figure out how to keep going with the broken pieces of his life. He'd never understand Sam's decision to leave him but it had been done and his brother was unmistakably happy without him. Dean just had to deal with that and try not to let the heartache consume him as it so often threatened too.

He'd been riding a Greyhound Bus across country, stopped in a diner in the middle of Minnesota, when the news report about a massive hurricane in New Orleans caught his attention. Dean couldn't do the hunting thing now, not anymore, not without Sam, but that didn't stop him from wanting to help people. So he headed that way, intent to find something that would make him more whole, make the ache go away.

Sometimes he woke in the middle of the ride, calling Sam's name loudly and barely stiffing a blush as the other people on the bus stared at him. He could still feel the ghost of his brother's fingers and lips along his skin, the warm slide of heat as they moved together. Something he would see on TV or read in a magazine would make him laugh and Dean caught himself turning to the side to tell Sam about it only to remember his brother wasn't there. Never would be there. In Sam's eyes nothing had ever happened between them. They had never loved more than two brother's should, had never touched in such a forbidden way, and Dean was now completely _alone_.

The first few months in New Orleans passed in a blur Dean hardly registered. He lived in motels and spent his days working his way through the city, helping random families rebuilding or searching through the wreckage. This often provided him food, the necessary companionship though Dean mostly kept to himself, and a chance to help others. Plus it kept him active and thus made ignoring the pain and ache much easier.

Time flew by as Dean strengthened his carpenter skills. He liked New Orleans. Despite everything people had been through they were friendly and always welcomed his help with open arms. Dean stopped hustling pool and darts for money and got himself a real night job as a bartender in an up and coming club called New Wave. He still worked with various families, enjoying the little moments when they would smile their appreciation at him.

It was halfway through his seventh month in New Orleans when Dean found a permanent place to live. He'd been considering trying to get an apartment or room for rent for some time before the morning he met Mrs. Salus. She was sitting on her porch, rocking slowly and smoking a cigarette, long streams of smoke floating up through the broken roof covering her porch. "You. Boy." She had called.

Since Dean was the only one in the street he had stopped, turning to her and smiling softly. "Can I help you ma'am?" He asked, using the polite charmed he had gained in the last seven months in this city.

"C'mere," she beckoned, flicking ash onto the porch and dipping her head down.

There was something curiously odd about the old woman that had Dean moving forward even though he had intended to head three blocks further south to help with a few families he knew were trying to finish reconstruction on their kitchen. "What can I do for you ma'am?" He asked once more, walking up the walk and then up the front steps.

She considered him silently for a long few minutes before nodding and pulling a long drag from her cigarette. "Your heart's been broken, I see it all over your face," she pointed out with a raspy voice and Dean's smile fell, eyes widening slightly. "Don'tchu worry none. Mm'not judgin'. Your heart cries out to me boy. You need somethin' real in your life."

Dean was shocked, unsure what to say to someone so very blunt to him about such a raw subject. "I..."

"No use denyin'. Tell you what boy; you bring your things here. House needs work and I can give you room 'n' food for your troubles," she choked on the last words, coughing for a long few minutes before shakily pushing herself up, using a cane to guide her inside the house. "Well c'min, roof ain't gonna fix itself."

Dean had watched her for a few minutes before shrugging and following her inside.

And so Dean did as the woman had asked, settling into the spare room and beginning the slow process of touching up the house. Between shifts at New Wave and the few hours of sleep he managed to get a night Dean worked hard. When the weather was fair he pulled his shirt off and climbed up onto the roof, soaking in a nice tan as the roof slowly came back together. He replaced panels of wood along the side of the house, repainting the wood a cream white color at Mrs. Salus request.

At times she would sit outside and tell him stories as he worked, explaining the way she knew the world worked, how people could connect themselves to the spiritual world if they only opened themselves to that. When winter came he began work on the inside, redoing the floors in each room, adding carpeting to the bedroom. Dean stopped by the library and checked out books on plumbing so he could redo all the pipes and faucets in the kitchen and bathroom. He repainted the walls, re-tiled the bathroom, and fixed a new set of marble counter tops into the kitchen.

The following spring Dean finished up the yard, planting flowers and trimming the lawn. He was pleased with his work and oddly sad to be done with all the tasks. Dean had developed a real passion for the house, enjoying pouring all his energy into each little task. At times he missed his brother so much he found himself crying, painting the walls in time with the waves of grief, imagining Sam pulling him into his arms and holding him close. During these times Mrs. Salus would gently pry the paintbrush from his fingers and lead him toward the couch, soothing him with honey tea and soft words. Dean was relieved she never asked about Sam though something in him said that she knew. At least something.

His second summer in the city Dean had settled into a comfortable routine. Now that the house was finished he resumed helping those in need, starting with his next door neighbour Sheila whose two children had spent the spring randomly tossing a baseball with Dean whenever he was outside and not too busy. Dean enjoyed the kids; surprising himself by how much fun he had playing their little games. Nathan, the oldest, reminded him a lot of Sam. He was all honest and sweet, curious and smart. Claudia, the youngest, was a lot like Dean oddly enough. She was constantly getting into mischief, disappearing suddenly and turning up on the roof half an hour later. He felt for the kids since Sheila worked some pretty intense hours at the hospital and their other mom, Barbara, was stationed in Iraq. Dean had been mildly shocked when he learned they had two moms but it warmed his heart to them even more so.

So Dean added babysitting to his list of jobs, taking on the role as the cool next door neighbour guy who could fix nearly any thing you may need help with. It wasn't really a bad reputation to have, even though it came with the knowledge that Dean was often quiet and slightly mysterious in his silence. It was well known that he didn't talk about his past, that he didn't offer up where he'd originally come from or what had brought him here.

It was an odd thing, settling into a life he never thought he'd have. The ache for Sam was still always there and he dreamed about his brother on most nights, but he managed to keep going, he managed genuine smiles and laughs. And though he'd never imagined a life outside of hunting, Dean found he enjoyed not having that extra fear or pressure. He spoke with Mrs. Salus, confessing to her after a year of knowing her that he knew about the creatures that went bump in the night. She didn't seem surprised by his admission, simply patted his hand and assured him that he was exactly where he should be.

During his second winter at Mrs. Salus he had become good friends with Ian and Eliza, a young couple who started working as bartenders at New Wave. They were funky, unique, and more than a little weird and Dean was surprised with how well they got along. Ian was the more subdued of the pair but Eliza brought the crazy out in him and Dean learned, the very first time he hung out with them outside of work, that together they were a force to be reckoned with. But they made him laugh and they always seemed to be aware of that haunting look that came across his eyes when something would remind him of Sam and spark pain in his chest.

Between Nathan and Claudia next door, long intense conversations with Mrs. Salus, and crazy work shifts with Ian and Eliza, Dean was nearly always busy. Any spare time he did have was spent out in the spring sun, helping neighbours with house repairs, traveling through the city to help others as needed.

Mrs. Salus passed away halfway through the third year and it sparked a fresh wave of pain in Dean. The house seemed much too quiet, lacking its usual warmth and delicious smell, tell tale signs that the woman was home and pleased to have someone to cook for. Dean was shocked to learn that, having no other family, she'd left her house to him in her will. Knowing that he didn't have to be uprooted from the first real house he'd come to know as home for years, Dean settled into making the place his. He didn't change much in the way of decorations, enjoying the Cajun feel to the home and not wanting to change Mrs. Salus' design, but he did add a few things more his style. Like a fairly nice flat screen TV and a collection of DVDs, that he'd been adding to since he'd first arrived in New Orleans, that took up an entire bookshelf along the living room wall.

He kept all Mrs. Salus' old books out, adding some of his own to the mix. Dean updated some of the furniture and appliances in the kitchen, having no particular attachment to the previous items and knowing the woman would have wanted him to make the place _his_. To celebrate his new home, and the wonderful woman who had left it to him, Dean invited a few families from the neighbourhood along with Ian and Eliza over for a barbecue. From the newly finished back porch Dean watched his friends speaking with each other, laughing and eating, and he considered how much his brother would have liked this. A normal life, just _them_ with no added pressure.

Having the wisdom of almost four years under his belt, Dean realized what that mysterious man of so many years ago had meant. Dean had never been enough for Sam, who wanted something more than Dean could offer. He hoped that his brother was happy wherever he was and, despite how tempted he often was, Dean restrained the urge to contact him in anyway. As much as he come to accept the heartache that came along with recalling the love he'd shared with his brother, Dean knew speaking with him in any way would only bring it flaring back to an intensity level too much for him to handle.

Dean never spoke of it but he still had Sam's old duffel bag, the one left behind so long ago. He kept it stashed in the back closet and touched it for the one and only time during that third year to pull a picture he knew Sam had stashed in his notebook. It was the only really personal thing in Dean's home but it felt oddly right to slip it into a frame and put in on the small table beside the couch. Dean didn't look at it often but he was strangely comforted just knowing it was there.

Without Mrs. Salus around Dean took a few more shifts at work, steadily learning all the tricks of bar tending and growing his friendship with Ian and Eliza. The club was constantly heightening in popularity, the nights getting so busy Dean was in constant motion. He learned how to smile and flirt with the customers, building up his tips to bring the most money home. He enjoyed his job, enjoyed working around the people without having to be too directly involved, quietly observing from the outside. He grew closer to Ian and Eliza, throwing them an engagement party when Ian popped the question the winter of his third year.

Then, halfway through the month of May in his fourth year, the little life Dean had established for himself changed for good. Things had been going along at a steady pace, work four days a week, babysitting the other three, sleeping when possible. It was a Friday and the crowd was busier than usual because New Wave was putting on an auction for a local charity. Dean had spent the good majority of the evening laughing at the hi-jinks of his co-workers, Eliza especially since she was attempting to raise a thousand dollars in order to get Dean and Ian to kiss. Truthfully Ian wasn't that bad looking and Dean wasn't completely objecting to the idea but it was more fun to pretend to be annoyed just to see the flush of determination on Eliza's face.

It should have been any other normal night, it _should_ have gone off without a hitch. But then, Ian directed him toward a table near the front stage. Dean had rolled his eyes and mumbled a protest as he headed that way. Then the group came into sight and Dean stopped mid step. In an instant his mind blanked, his heart skipped a beat, and his eyes widened.

-=-=-=-

Sam was fidgeting with the paper coaster on the table and Madison leaned across the table to smack it out of his hands. "Jesus Mads!" He smirked at her and stuck out his bottom lip as he turned to Jess and put on his best hurt expression. "Your best friend smacked me."

Jessica threw her head back and laughed, blond hair bobbing in a pony tail. "Oh poor baby," she soothed and tousled Sam's hair. Smiling at him, she slid her small hand over Sam's thigh and squeezed. Sam knew she was having a good time but better than that - she was happy to see Sam relaxing. Hell, _Sam_ was happy to be relaxing. He'd spent so much time studying at school he'd started to wonder if the outside world existed. In fact, if it hadn't been for the persistence of friends like Madison and Zach - Sam might have spent an entire year without much social interaction. Things with Jess were good; she was all those things Sam had always thought he wanted; beautiful, smart, great sense of humour, stubborn and adventurous. Sam's eyes locked with hers for a moment before his expression softened and he looked away.

"Zach," Sam leaned across the table toward his best friend. "What did you say was the deal with this place?"

Leaning back on his chair, Zach scratched at his head. Black hair falling forward over his eyes he nodded knowingly at Sam, "hottest night club in New Orleans, baby..." Winking he lifted his chin in the direction of a particularly attractive waitress.

Madison leaned forward and slapped Zach across the side of the head. "You think I can't see what you're looking at? You're lucky," she shifted forward and nuzzled his ear until he blushed, "you have a very forward thinking girlfriend." Picking her rather colourful drink up she sipped at the straw daintily until Jessica started laughing

"Mads, sometimes I think you're more likely to pick up a woman than either of these two..." she nudged Sam, "Right?" Blinking, Jess nudged Sam again. "Sam?"

Sam's eyes were staring straight over Madison's shoulder. At first, he'd thought it was just one of those weird everyone-has-a-twin things and in a few moments he'd realize that the guy looked nothing like what he'd originally thought. But then - the guy looked back at Sam, green eyes glinting in the dim lights of the club. Sam's hands fluttered to the table surface and he pushed himself up, mouth parting in a slight smile. _Dean_. He hadn't seen Dean or spoken to him since he'd left for school. For some reason, he'd always thought that Dean would just call him, that they'd work things out - but as time had a way of doing, it had slipped away from him in a blur of classes, exams and ...well, life. And here it was the middle of a night club while they were on vacation that he was suddenly face to face with his brother. "Holy fuck."

For a long minute Dean was tempted to turn and bolt. He couldn't face Sam, not even after all these years, not knowing the man couldn't see the flash of their bodies together as their bodies collided, couldn't remember the taste and heat of each other's mouths, _knowing_ this man had chosen a happy and normal life over him. What was worse though, Dean couldn't even be angry at him about it because Sam didn't _remember_. So he forced his face into a smile and kick started his legs, crossing toward them and pulling his dishrag from his pocket to wipe off his hands. Really it was to stop any urge Sam might have to grasp his hand. Dean didn't think he could handle touching. "Hey," he said as casually as possible, trying to get his brother's name out but not able to form his lips around the word.

Stumbling out from behind the table Sam closed the distance between them. _Dean_. "I ..." wide-eyed, suddenly nervous, Sam ran his fingers through his hair and held his head for a moment. "Holy shit, Dean." Sam blinked a few times as the roar of the crowd in the club kind of faded into the background then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his brother's shoulders. "S'good to see you, man." He spoke near Dean's ear wanting to make sure Dean knew he _was_ glad to see him.

Heat flared through Dean's body and his shoulders stiffened, heart once more stuttering over beats. "Y-yeah... uh..." Dean stepped back, pain churning inside him much more intense then he thought should exist after so many years he had to get over it. "You too. Okay. Uh, can I get you drinks?" He forced himself to smile, forced himself to stay and not flee like everything in him said too.

"God...Dean...." Sam's hand slid down to the small of Dean's back and pressed him toward the table. "Dean...everyone?" Sam didn't need to wait until everyone looked over; they were all staring at Sam, wide-eyed and curious. "This ..." he smiled, brow still furrowed in amazement, "is my brother Dean." Shaking his head slowly, Sam laughed and gestured to the people at the table. "Zach and his girlfriend Madison...and Jess... my girlfriend." There was a mass scraping of chairs as they all stood up and Sam smiled warmly at Jess as she moved quickly around the table and went up on her toes to tug Dean's neck down so she could kiss his cheek. "I've heard about you ... the infamous Dean Winchester." She smiled and stepped back behind Sam, small fingers curled over his bicep.

"We, on the other hand," Zach extended his hand after a quick glance at Madison, "had no idea Sam even had a brother." As he was shaking Dean's hand Zach kicked out at Sam's ankle. "Asshole," he muttered.

Shrugging Madison waved her fingers at Dean over Zach's shoulder, red fingers nails glistening in the stage lights.

"Uh... nice to meet you all," Dean muttered, barely resisting the urge to wipe at his cheek. He had no reason to be mad at Jess but it didn't stop the bitter sting to burn through him. Glancing quickly over his shoulder Dean looked for a logical reason to get as far away from this table as possible. "Sorry to just meet you and run but it's a crazy night, can I put some drink orders in for you?" He stepped back from the group slightly when a wave of Sam's smell washed over his senses, sending him flying back to memories as if he's never left.

"Uh... well, I know what everyone's drinking, I'll come with." Kicking his chair back toward the table Sam said, "be right back." Turning to Dean he smiled, "you work over at the main bar?" He leaned closer to Dean, "it's great to see you," Sam turned and started to head toward the bar.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked, glancing at him as they weaved through the crowd. He moved easily behind the bar and turned to face his brother, shocked expression on his face.

Sliding up behind him Eliza curled her fingers around his hip bone and dipper in to whisper in his ear, "not being bothered are you?"

"M'good," he assured her with a quick smile, watching her smile and nod at Sam before heading off. "Sorry did you answer? It's a little loud," he leaned forward enough to hear Sam without touching him in any way.

Sam glanced at the woman as she disappeared, "is she your...are you with her?" Sam smiled, eyes sliding up his brother's arm. Dean was a _hell_ of a lot more muscular than the last time Sam had seen him. But then, Sam was still pretty much in shock at even seeing Dean again.

The shock of the entire situation had him laughing harder than necessary. The smile on his brother's face had his stomach churning. Still wide and bright, hair longer and tucked back, Sam was as gorgeous as ever. Dean roughly shook his head and reached down grab a few glasses from the rack beneath the bar. "Just a friend. So drinks? I really should get back to work," Dean gestured around him, wondering if he could just serve Sam drinks then avoid him the rest of the night.

Admittedly, Sam was a little hurt by the fact that Dean didn't seem to want him around but he figured he could just chalk it up to the time and distance between them. "uh... yeah. One of those frilly blue things with the plastic mermaid, two beers and Jess drinks screwdrivers." Slipping on to the closest bar stool Sam pressed his hands to the top of the bar and leaned forward. "You're really busy... is it always like this?"

"Weekends? Yes," Dean nodded and reached into the ice to grab two bottles of beer, popping the cap on both before setting them in front of Sam. "But we're also doing a fundraiser tonight so it's a little more so," he explained as he went about pulling up the required drinks to make the _frilly blue things_ Sam had mentioned. He found it easiest to pretend that this was just an average customer, not someone of so much importance, and he shot Sam a brief smile. "You guys been in town for awhile?"

"Just a few days, Zach found this bar in the travel book." Sam glanced back over his shoulder and nodded at Jess to let her know everything was fine. She was familiar with the basic details of what had happened between the brothers as they grew up, their polar opposite personalities, Dean's gruff nature and their father's overbearing personality. In short, she knew enough to worry they might already be arguing with one another. Dean, seemed different somehow though, calmer, maybe more at ease with himself. "We're here two more weeks, can I..." Sam blinked a few times then looked up at Dean's face. "Can I see you? Before we go I mean?"

Dean looked up sharply, spilling alcohol on his fingers and cursing softly. Cleaning up the mess swiftly Dean did his best to hide how unsettled the question made him. "I work a lot. More than one job. Sorry I just... can't." Dean swallowed thickly and spun. Stepping away from his brother he hastily made up Jess' drink, a surprising wave of grief stinging tears along his eyes. A minute later he stepped back in front of Sam and set the drink down. "These are on the house. Have a good time. See you around." Dean still couldn't get himself to say Sam's name and he turned to head down the bar to the nearest patrons in need of help.

Staring at his brother's back Sam sank back down on to the bar stool. He knew things hadn't been that great between them, and yeah, they'd fallen out of touch but somehow, he'd thought Dean had always cared about him a little bit. It was hard to believe as Dean walked away. Pulling his wallet out Sam dropped thirty dollars on the bar and picked up the drinks, weaving his way carefully back through the crowd to the table.

Bending down Sam slid all the drinks onto the table and sat down. "Well," he pushed his hair back off his forehead, "that was interesting."

Jess leaned in to his side, "I bet, how... well, what did you say?" She gazed up at Sam, face full of concern.

Sam assumed that Jess had explained about his brother while he was gone, after all, Madison and Zack were their closest friends. "He..." Sam looked down, fingers tugging at the label on his beer bottle, "he didn't want to talk to me." Sam was surprised at the hurt the flared through his body as he said the words. "I guess.. I mean, well, it's been a long time." Nodding, he pressed his lips together.

Zach pressed his fist to Sam's shoulder, "maybe you just surprised him, I'm sure it's nothing personal. I bet..."

"I mean," Madison continued, "it's not like he got up this morning and figured he'd be reunited with his brother tonight...right?" She glanced at Zach and Jess and they both nodded enthusiastically.

Smiling slightly Sam reached across the table for Jess' hand, heart warmed by their support. He just wished he could believe it was that simple. "Yeah, you're right... I guess I just ...." the music was suddenly a bit louder and Sam's eyes moved over to the stage in time to see the woman from behind the bar fiddling with a microphone.

"Hey everyone," Eliza said into the microphone, beaming brightly when the room as whole cheered. "I know, I know, I'm hot stuff. But let's quiet it down for the _real_ action," she laughed and reached out to gesture toward the bar. "Let's give a big round of applause for my co-workers Ian and Dean. C'mon up here boys!"

Sam shrugged at Jess to let her know he had no idea what was going on and picked up his beer. He watched Dean stride across the stage, confident, happy - the same cocky older brother Sam had idolized so much.

The crowd was cheering once more as Dean followed Ian onto the stage, laughing when Ian caught his gaze and rolled his eyes dramatically. He shoved all thoughts of his brother being in the crowd away, focusing in on hamming it up for the crowd. It was probably what made the club so popular, the three of them had quite the reputation, and Dean wasn't going to ruin that because of one random night where Sam suddenly appeared in his life again. "Oh quiet down," he leaned over to call in the microphone, laughing when Eliza leaned into his body and threw an arm over his shoulder.

"Don't mind my Dean here, he's just _shy_ ," she teased and bumped their hips together before letting go and crossing the stage, knocking her fingers along the whiteboard there. "So you mostly all know we're having a charity thing going on tonight, it's for a great cause so we appreciate any and all donations. And our biggest auction, the thing I'm really gunning for, is a kiss between my beloved fiancé Ian here and Dean." The crowd exploded in cheers and Eliza laughed, head tipping back. "I know, I know, only problem is they said they won't do it for less than $1000 and we're only at $900!"

Eyes widening Sam turned once more to Jess and blinked a few times before looking back at the stage. _A kiss?_ He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and leaned back hard against the chair back and folding his arms. The slightest pinch of jealousy bit at him and Sam narrowed his eyes, confused.

Everyone booed at the news and Dean laughed, looking at Ian and shook his head. Ian just shrugged and grinned, sliding to Eliza's side to lean against her shoulder. "Good grief, alright," Dean stepped forward to speak into the microphone and slid a hand back into his pocket to pull out his wallet. "Since no one is offering, and Ian _is_ smokin' hot..." He sighed dramatically and pushed the leather open, pulling out a small stack of bills and counting out, "twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, a hundred. There." He slapped the pills into Eliza's palm and grinned at the wide smile on her face. "Now don't say I never got you a wedding present!"

Sam could feel his friends all looking at him and he ignored it, eyes locked on his brother's face as he tried to figure out what was going on. His brother kissing a man, his friend's husband and doing it onstage at a club that he owned. None of this fit with the brother that he knew from so many years ago.

As Ian turned to him Dean's heart clenched once more as it seemed to be doing all night. He wouldn't have minded kissing Ian on any other occasion but knowing Sam was watching made it different. Reassuring himself that Sam didn't remember anything about their life before, Dean shook the thoughts away and stepped forward to cup Ian's neck with his palm. "I have one kinky girl," Ian mused quietly, smile tugging on his lips as he stepped into Dean's body.

"You lucky bastard," Dean responded in kind and laughed, head falling to the side. He could see Eliza shift in the corner of his eye, getting a better view, face already flushed. Dean's tongue slid out along his lips, grazed Ian's for just a moment in passing. He could feel Ian's hand curl around to press into the small of his back, bringing him forward until their hips touched. Ian was just a few inches taller than him, ironically somewhere around Sam's height, and Dean leaned up, chests moulding together.

Their lips brushed once, twice, before opening and sealing together in an open glide. The hand on Ian's neck slid back into his thick black hair, bringing him in to grind their lips together roughly. Dean's tongue slipped forward and he pulled back just enough to allow the room a proper view of their tongues twisting together in a slow circle. Ian was a _fantastic_ kisser and, though Dean hadn't known this from practical experience, he'd seen the way Eliza looked after a long and proper kiss. Heat sparked along his veins and Dean's hips unwittingly rolled forward into Ian's as the man caught his lower lip between his teeth and dragged it out, releasing it with a small pop of his lips a moment later.

For just a beat the crowd was silent, Dean's eyes remained closed as his tongue slowly dragged over his kiss swollen lips, then everyone broke into cheers and Dean pulled himself from the moment. Ian's eyes were slightly blown and Eliza slid forward, face completely flushed by this point. "Thank god it's my break," she laughed into the microphone before dipping to Dean and kissing him on the corner of his lips, smiling a thank you before pulling Ian off the stage.

Sam's mouth went completely dry and he rolled his shoulders back. Madison cheered and clapped, nearly knocking her drink over and Zack stared across the table at Jess who was trying hard to look anywhere but at Sam. Sam wasn't sure what was surprising him more, the fact that he'd just seen his brother's shoving his _tongue_ into another man's mouth or the fact that he had felt the hugest stab of jealous burning through his body. Leaning forward he dragged both hands down his face letting his fingers rest over his mouth for a few moments.

Dean blinked at the crowd for a moment before ducking his head and rubbing along his neck, waving a hand to stop their cheering and jumping down to head back to the bar. He went out of his way to avoid Sam's table, not wanting to face whatever look Sam might have on his face. He was pretty sure Sam had never even fathomed that Dean might enjoy kissing guys more than girls. The line of customers at the bar was as big as ever and Dean set about taking orders, looking toward the few other bar tenders who'd been brought in to help with the larger than normal crowd, glad he had back up since it wasn't like Eliza and Ian would be back for awhile.

"That was..." Sam's voice was thick and he snatched his beer off the table and took a few huge gulps.

"Hot," murmured Madison then squeaked when Zack smacked her thigh. "Well, it was," her eyes were wide and she leaned back and sighed rubbing her glass across her forehead to cool herself down.

"Well, I ..." Jess seemed to be able to do nothing other than blink, "I didn't know Dean was... was...what is Dean? I mean... is he gay?"

Sam slammed his beer down on the table, heat flaring up sharp and painful again in his chest. "I don't know. _Fuck_." He folded his arms again and pushed back from the table.

"Baby, no one meant... I mean..." Jess' face fell a little.

Sam turned to her and forced a smile, "I know, I know... just..." he held up a finger, "I'm gonna go talk to my brother...." Standing, Sam pushed his chair back under the table carefully and pushed his way through the crowd to line up at the end of the bar. Dean was laughing, bottles were sliding up and down the bar, money was being dumped into the donation jar _and_ filling the tip jar. Sam had never seen so many drinks poured in such a short period of time. He had probably waited thirty minutes before the crowd thinned out a little and managed to give Dean a nod to let him know that he wanted a word with him.

Dean knew the look on his brother's face, and likely knew what the conversation was going to be about. It was the last thing Dean wanted to do, this whole thing was just too much and Dean had never wanted to be off work so badly. "Not the time," Dean called as he walked past him, pulling up a couple beer bottles and sliding them toward him. "There that should work for you." He shrugged and tried a half apologetic smile.

Sam's shoulders slumped, the sting of rejection hitting him like a slap across the face. He didn't know what he'd done to Dean to bring out this much hate in his brother but it was certainly more than he'd ever expected. Biting down hard on his bottom lip Sam pushed the beers back toward Dean, knocking one of them over and backed away slowly. He waited until Dean looked up at him, _wanting_ Dean to see the hurt in his eyes before he spun on his heels and shoved his way through the crowd.

"I know that guy," Eliza said from behind him, startling Dean slightly. When he turned to her she frowned softly and ran a hand through her rumbled hair. "Hey! Isn't that the guy you have a picture with in your house? The one you won't say anything about but we all know is like, an ex lover or something that explains the deep dark mysterious that is Dean?" She smiled innocently at him, turning to the split beer bottle and grabbing a rag. "And now you're being an asshole, how not like you."

Dean sighed, half tempted to point out to Eliza that she only knew an impression of him, an image he'd perfected over the years. Still that look of hurt in Sam's eyes had been intense enough to make him feel like the asshole she was accusing him of being. "Yeah yeah. Fine. I'm taking my break," he muttered and dropped his rag on the counter. It would have been world's easier to simply head for the back door and step out into the cool night air as he usually did on his break but something in him suggested this might be the last time he ever saw his brother and his heart made him move slowly to the crowd to the table Sam had rejoined.

Hesitating behind the four, watching them circle around Sam in obvious show of support, Dean once more entertained the notion to flee as fast as possible. But the blond, Jess, looked up and spotted him, eyes narrowing in obvious protection for her boyfriend. Suddenly it seemed very important that this girl not think of him as a total jerk who blew off the brother he hadn't seen in years so he closed the distance and cleared his throat. "Hey, sorry I... we're really busy..." he shrugged, glancing at Sam briefly before looking around the club.

"No problem, I get it," Sam's voice was tight, fingers gripping Jess' hand tightly on the table. "You have a good night, Dean." Glancing up once quickly, eyes glassy, Sam smiled and looked down at the table. He just wanted Dean to go away, wanted to stay there long enough to look like he wasn't running away and then find some other bar in which to get stupid drunk. He had no idea why seeing Dean, seeing him with a man, just the whole _damn_ night had affected him so much. It shouldn't, he'd not thought of Dean a lot over the years and suddenly he couldn't get his brother's image out of his mind.

"It was nice to meet you, Dean." Jess' eyes didn't warm up one iota as she sat there staring at her boyfriend's brother.

Madison smiled weakly and Zach kept his back to Dean.

"I... okay," Dean slid back, glancing over and catching both Eliza and Ian's concerned gaze. "Well I'm on break if... uh... okay never mind," he shrugged and turned, blowing out a low release of oxygen, eyes fluttering closed for a minute to steady himself.

"Hey?" Sam turned quickly and tucked his hair back behind his ear, "you could maybe ... could I see you for coffee or something before I go?" Sam stood and stepped in closer to give them some privacy, "I know you don't wanna see me, but just ... just reconnect a little. I could ... I'd like that." Sam's lips were a thing white line and he reached out and squeezed Dean's shoulder.

The touched burned through him and Dean couldn't help stepping back, eyes widening slightly. Just the idea of being alone with Sam was sending his heart into overtime and he stepped back once more, "I... I can't... it's too much." Dean shook his head roughly before spinning on his heels and weaving quickly through the crowd to find the backdoor, pushing it open and inhaling deeply to calm his nerves.

"Well, fuck this," Sam sank back down into his chair. "Okay, I need more beer." Grabbing Zach's beer off the table Sam held it up briefly, "here's to family." He tilted the bottle back and drained it before setting it back on the table.

Jess leaned in to Sam's side, small hand slipping over his arm. "Sam...he's just ... I mean he was always kind of different to you right? You said that Dean was ..." Sam watched her face as she searched for the right words, "stand offish." Stroking her fingers through Sam's hair she smiled warmly, "he's not like you. You told me he was great when you were kids right? And then he changed as you got older..."

Sam nodded. "We were close until I... I guess until I was about sixteen or so - he changed, didn't even look at me the same way." He looked down at the table remembering all the time they'd spent together when he was young. He'd spent so much time following Dean around, trying to be _just_ like his older brother. "Jess... let's just..." sighing, Sam turned and smiled at Zach and Madison. "How about we just ... why don't you guys go on back to the bar at the Hotel. It's late... I'll meet you back there."

Zach nodded and looked over at Jess.

"Sam, you sure?" The corner of Jess' eyes crinkled in concern.

"Yeah," Sam nodded again, more certain. If he was going to walk away from his brother again, he was going to at least say good-bye. Just because Dean was treating him like hell didn't mean Sam had to react the same way. "I'm good Jess, I'll follow you out and get some air."

They stood, gathering purses and change and managed to wind their way through the crowd to the front door. Dean was nowhere to be seen but Sam was sure he would be staying until closing. After he'd seen his friends off, Sam wandered across the street and picked up a coffee then settled on a bench outside the bar to wait for his brother.

When Dean came back in from his break his heart once more clenched as he spotted the table Sam and his friends had been at now occupied by a new group of people. He had officially driven Sam away and truthfully couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. The minute he stepped behind the bar he could feel Eliza and Ian watching him curiously but as usual he kept his silence on the matter. They knew well enough by now that he wouldn't offer up any information and asking about it wouldn't do any good.

As much as it pained him, Dean kept everything bottled inside. It would have been easily to explain that Sam was his brother but not so easy to explain why he acted like such a dejected puppy dog at the very sight of him. They had already made their assumptions as to who Sam was and considering they were mostly right, he _was_ an ex-lover after all, Dean let them continue thinking that way.

Dean lost himself in his work, smile more fake than usual, actions familiar. He thought about how happy Sam had looked with his friends and Jess, before Dean came in and burst that little bubble. Obviously that life Sam had chosen over him was working out well for him and that relieved Dean at the same time as it broke him a little more.

The last couple of hours of his shift trickled by, images of the new, grown up Sam dancing across his mind. He wondered what his brother did now, how school had gone, if he was serious enough about Jess to ask her to marry him. Then he clamped the thoughts off because it hurt too much to think about Sam spending the rest of his life with someone else. By the time closing time came Eliza and Ian were nearly tiptoeing around him, clearly worried about upsetting him in any way.

So it came as no surprise when they sent him home, explaining that they'd take care of the mess even though it was more than usual. Dean only half-heartedly offered his help, more inclined by the idea of going home and curling under his covers. They insisted they were fine thankfully and sent him on his way.

After gathering his backpack Dean headed for the door, shaking off the too stressful night with a roll of his shoulders. He turned left the minute he exited, heading for his motorcycle chained up at the far side of the parking lot.

Jerking up as he saw Dean turn the corner Sam bolted after him, "Dean," he called out as he jogged across the parking lot. His brother didn't slow down and Sam skidded to a halt beside, what he assumed, was his brother's motorcycle. "Hi..." He tried to blow his hair off his forehead and smiled. "Listen, I used to have this brother - when I was a kid. Really looked up to him, _God_ he let me follow him around all over the place." He shoved his hands in his pockets and continued before Dean could say anything. "Anyway," he flashed what Jess referred to as his _winning_ smile, "you really remind me of him and I was thinking we could hang out." Pulling his hand back out of his pocket Sam scratched at his ear nervously.

Dean stared at Sam in mild surprise. His brother had to have been waiting around here for him for a couple hours at least. The gesture was oddly touching and Dean's eyes softened slightly as he stared up at the man. Dean's mind supplied a perfect image of those lips against his, the gentle touches and caresses, the hard fuck against the hood of the Impala the day before his life changed for good. "Sam..." he said, forming the name out loud for the first time in years. "I... I'm sure you have better things to do then talk to me. As you may have noticed... I'm not exactly the best conversationalist," Dean shrugged helplessly, shifting his backpack on his shoulders.

"Dean, please. You're... you're the only family I've got. Just coffee, it won't kill you." Sam's smile faltered a little, this was his last chance. "Maybe I could come see where you live, just me, I'll ditch my crew." Reaching up he curled his hand around Dean’s neck just like Dean had always done to him when they were kids. Shaking his brother gently he tilted his head to the side, "c'mon, please?"

As expected the touch sparked up in him and Dean pursed his lips before stepping back slightly, rolling his shoulders. "I..." he sighed and looked to the side, trying desperately to tell himself that meeting up with Sam was just asking for more heartache. But the curiosity to know more about Sam along with the _need_ to be around him was too pressing to ignore. "I... I'm not..." he blew out a long breath before sighing once more and shrugging off his backpack. Letting it rest against the seat of his motorcycle Dean unzipped it and pulled it open, tugging out a notebook and flipping it open. Retrieving a pen he scribbled his address down and tore the page out, offering it to Sam. "Afternoon sometime. I'll be around." He glanced up at Sam as he held the paper out, half expecting Sam to laugh and say he'd been joking about the whole thing, that he had no interest in reconnecting with Dean in any way.

"Thanks." Sam's fingers brushed across his brother's as he took the paper, sending the strangest sensation fluttering across his chest. Blinking it away Sam tucked the paper in his inside jacket pocket and patted it. "Thanks," he grinned, "I said that already, okay." Walking backwards a few steps Sam held up his hand and waved. "I'll come by tomorrow." With a last flash of smile he turned and jogged off across the parking lot. Jess had already texted him about ten times wondering how long it would be before he got back to the Hotel.

Dean watched Sam until he disappeared, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. With a soft sigh he tucked his notebook back into his backpack and pulled it over his shoulders, bending down to unhook the chain around his bike. _Tomorrow_ was a looming, daunting presence in his mind and Dean was pretty sure he wasn't going to get any sleep that night.


	4. Chapter 4

As he'd expected, Dean didn't sleep very well that night and was woken up only hours after he'd finally dozed off to the loud knocking at his front door. Dean groaned and rolled out of bed, stumbling down the hall and tugging it open. For a moment he looked at his height, eyes narrowing until he heard the soft giggle lower. Milking it up, Dean leaned half out the door and hummed loudly, "oh those dang kids ringing my doorbell. How rude!" He huffed out the words and stepped back as if to swing the door shut, keeping his eyes up.

"Dean!" Claudia giggled loudly and lurched forward, throwing her arms around his legs. "We're right here!"

"Oh it's _you_ ," Dean laughed and smoothed a hand through the girl’s curly brown hair, ruffling it softly before turning his smile to Nathan. "What are you two scoundrels up too?"

"Hey Dean, sorry if we woke up," Shelia appeared around the corner, soft smile on her face. "I got called in, would you mind watching them for a few hours? I should be back by two at the latest."

"No problem," Dean smiled reassuringly at her, half turning to watch the two kids run the rest of the way into his house, straight for the kitchen. He could use the distraction anyway. "I uh... I'm having some company this afternoon so..."

"Oh no worries, I'll be back, if they're any trouble when your company arrives just send them across the street okay?" She spoke even as she stepped back toward her car in the driveway next door. "They ate breakfast already so don't let them fool you."

Laughing Dean called out a goodbye and closed the door, turning to head down the hall to the kitchen. Both kids had already found his stash of donuts and Dean laughed at the smear of powder along their lips. "Your mom is gonna slaughter me. So only one okay?" Laughing still he headed for the coffee pot, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. "Who has homework?"

"School's out Dean," Nathan informed him and laughed, climbing up into the chair beside his sister who was swinging her legs back and forth. "Duh," he added and Dean laughed once more, shaking his head.

"Alright, alright, forgive this old guy for not being up with the times," he scoffed and rolled to rest against the counter as the coffee began brewing. "So I just bought..." Dean walked across the kitchen and reclaimed his backpack from the place he'd dropped it the night before, pulling it up and tugging out a DVD. "Monsters Inc. You two wanna watch it?"

"Yeah!" They called in unison and half slid off their chairs.

Laughing Dean shook his head, "wait until you've finished your donuts. Last thing I need is powder on my couch." His laugh grew as the two stuffed the remainder of their donuts into their mouths. "Orange juice?" He suggested and moved toward the fridge as their heads bobbed up and down. Dean poured two glasses and grabbed a rag from the sink, wetting it under the faucet. "Hands please," he demanded and stepped forward to clean the powder off both their tiny hands and his table.

Fifteen minutes later Dean had the two set up in front of the TV, the movie just beginning to play as he headed back to the kitchen to finish up his coffee. He used the opportunity of the kid’s distraction to shower, trying hard not to think about the anticipation curling up in him. He wondered when Sam would show up, if he'd really come alone, how the conversation would go, if he could keep his mouth shut about the past Sam didn't remember. By the time he was cleaned and dressed he was starting to wish he had Sam's number so he could call and cancel. But there was that other part of Dean that wanted to see Sam, more than anything, so he was mostly glad he didn't have the chance to cancel.

After Monsters Inc. they watched Finding Nemo, a movie Dean had seen _way_ too many times for his liking. But it was amusing to hear the two quote the lines happily along with the movie and Dean only half read the book in his lap, giving up halfway through the movie when Nathan and Claudia settled in against his sides. When the movie was done Dean recruited their help to make PB &Js, eating them at the table with a handful of Sun Chips and apple juice. Dean's cabinets and fridge were supplied for the kid’s random visits, a fact that often amused him when he was doing his grocery shopping. He loved the kids, enjoyed being able to look after them without having to worry about the discipline side of thing. It was the closest he'd ever come to having children and Dean was content to live vicariously through Shelia as a parent.

They cleaned up after their lunch before heading out into the warm late spring sun. Claudia ran off into the backyard to gather a supply of toys while Nathan headed inside to get a football. The little girl amused herself with a tea party while Dean continued teaching Nathan the proper way to through the football. Not that he knew much about sports in any way but somehow it seemed smarter than teaching him about weapons like he'd been learning about at Nathan's age.

Claudia grew tired of her tea party after awhile and Dean suggested hide and seek, a game that always seemed to entertain the kids. A few rounds of hide and seek turned into tag which consequently, as usual, turned into _tackle Dean_. His worries about the afternoon visit from his estranged brother faded away under the laughter and weight of the children. Dean moved easily, spinning them around through the air and chasing them until he could scoop them up and tickle easily along their sides.

Sam walked up to the house with a piece of paper clutched in his hand. At first, he thought he had gotten completely lost because all he could hear was a whole lot of laughing. There was a man in the yard playing with two children and Sam smiled as he walked up. He watched, eyes widening, heart warming as his _brother_ swung the kids in the air. As they all crumpled down onto the grass Sam stepped closer to hear what they were saying.

By the time they collapsed onto the grass they were all panting, Dean's arms opening easily as the two plopped against his sides and stared up at the clouds. "I see a bag of marshmallows," Dean mused, warm smile on his lips.

"I see a dragon... and a knight fighting him," Nathan pointed out, short arm lifting to point a finger up at the blob of a cloud.

"Is there a Princess?" Claudia asked; face scrunching up as she peered at the sky.

"Nope. The dragon ate the Princess," Nathan informed her and Dean bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Claudia sighed loudly. "The Princess _always_ gets eaten by the dragon. You're such a butt Nathan."

Dean did laugh this time and he shook his head. "Now that's not very nice. I'd say Nathan's more of a... modern thinker."

"Well it's lame," Claudia huffed with as much annoyance as a five year old could manage.

"I _am_ a modern thinker," Nathan pointed out.

"I see a giant!" Claudia giggled and sat up swiftly.

The smile on Dean's face faltered slightly as both he and Nathan sat, arm tightening around the boy as he shifted into him nervously. "That's not a giant," Dean informed the little girl as he pushed up to a standing position. "That's Sam. Sam, this is Nathan and Claudia," he introduced them, glancing down at the kids as they slid slightly behind his legs, staring up at Sam curiously.

"Hey guys." Sam smiled and stepped through the gate into the yard. He dropped down to a crouch to smile warmly at the kids from where they peeked out at him. "Did I hear someone mention dragons? I _love_ dragons!" Glancing up at Dean quickly Sam let himself fall back onto his ass ungracefully and let out an over-exaggerated whoosh of breath.

"I like dragons that don't eat Princesses," Claudia said quietly, glancing up at Dean with a smile before looking back at Sam.

Settling back down into the grass Dean smiled while Nathan and Claudia elbowed each other for room on his lap. "We're just waiting for these two's mom. She should be home any minute," he shrugged at Sam as the kids settled back on his chest.

"What do you want with Dean?" Nathan asked, arms folding across his chest in a way that made Dean snort a fond laugh.

Sam smiled at Claudia, "my name's Sam, Claudia. I don't think that dragons should eat Princesses either. In fact, I'm pretty sure that dragons like mostly chocolate and knights in shining armour." He turned to Nathan, "hi there Nathan, Dean's my ...."

"Friend," Dean cut Sam off, eyes shooting up to lock on Sam's. "We're old friends, we grew up together. Sam was in town and we ran into each other, decided to catch up."

"You're from the picture!" Claudia said excitedly, bouncing off Dean's lap and crawling over to drop down beside Sam. "You're in Dean's picture but you look much bigger in real life. Are you sure you're not a giant?" She asked, poking at Sam's calf.

Sam looked over at Dean with a puzzled expression on his face then down at Claudia's beaming face. "Yeah, I'm not a giant I just ate a _lot_ of vegetables when I was a kid and grew really tall." He smiled down at her and leaned back on his hands. "What are we doing anyway?" He tried to shake off the feeling that Dean didn't want him around again, _friend_?

The kids opened their mouths in unison to respond but cut off when a car pulled into the driveway. "Mommy!" the both hollered and pushed up to run across the yard toward the car.

Dean sighed in slight relief and stood as well, glancing at Sam and shrugging.

"Sorry," Shelia called the moment she pushed the door open, stooping to hug both kid in turn. "I tried to hurry. I hope you haven't been waiting too long."

"No it's okay," Dean reassured and stepped forward. "Shelia this is my... this is Sam. Sam, this is my neighbour Shelia."

"Nice to meet you," Shelia smiled at Sam, stepping forward to hold her hand out.

Taking her hand and shaking it Sam grinned at her. At least she seemed sort of pleased to meet him. If Sam spent much more time around his brother he was thinking he might need some therapy to build his self-esteem back up. "Nice to meet you Sheila, you guys lives in a great neighbourhood."

"It's the best. Dean here has single handily helped rebuild the whole place after the hurricane," she sighed softly and dropped Sam's hand, smiling at Dean. "Well we'll let you boys go. Dean is it okay if they come over around eight tonight? I picked up the late shift."

"Of course," Dean nodded, smiling at her as she headed for the house.

"Nice to meet you again Sam, hope we'll see more of you around," Shelia smiled knowingly, laughing at Dean's slight cringe as she turned and ushered her kids into the house, the door closing moments later.

Rolling his shoulders to shake off the tension Dean stared at the closed door for a moment before turning back to Sam and staring at him. His skin was noticeably more tanned in the sunlight, hair glistening, and Dean swallowed thickly before gesturing to the gate. "C'mon, I'm just the house over." He led Sam toward his house, pushing the gate open and holding it for Sam.

Trailing along behind his brother Sam glanced back at Sheila over his shoulder. "Why is she laughing?" His smile was warm as he increased the length of his steps to stay next to Dean.

"Because she's a cruel and heartless bitch," Dean muttered and glanced over at Sam before smiling and shaking his head. "No actually she's probably the sweetest person I know. She just uh... likely thinks that by _friend_ I mean something _more_ than friend." He shrugged and glanced at the house before leading Sam up the walk to his house and pushing the door open, kicking his shoes off at the threshold. "Shoes off please," he said softly and stepped aside to make room for Sam.

Sam struggled to pull his boots off then rubbed at the back of his neck. "Dean are you gay?" His eyes widened and he could feel himself blushing. He was a bit shocked himself that he'd just blurted the question out. Sam had spent a long time talking to Jess about what had happened at the bar when he'd finally managed to get back to the hotel. It hadn't shocked Sam because it was a bad things, in fact, it had sort of made sense to him. Sam had done some experimenting with men in school - and of course, Jess knew all about that. "I mean it doesn't matter if you are... 'cause I ... well, it doesn't matter..." He closed his mouth and raised his eyebrows.

Wetting his lips slightly Dean shrugged and scratched absently at his shoulder. "I... I guess I haven't really ever bothered to classify it. But... yeah I guess it's been a few years since I've been with a girl. Not saying I don't appreciate an attractive girl so bi maybe?" He shrugged once more and stared his brother, curiosity nipping at his sense. "You've what?" He asked stepping back slightly when he realized he'd been slowly gravitating forward as if Sam were a force sucking him in.

"What?" Sam was so busy studying his brother's face he'd completely lost track of what they were talking about. "I.. oh... I ... nothing..." he shook his head and blew out a breath. "M'nervous." Reaching out he smacked Dean on the shoulder, "dude, you've bulked up... you're all muscle now." Grinning, Sam tucked his hair behind his ear and slipped his hands into the back pockets on his jeans.

Dean nodded and turned, gesturing for Sam to follow him down the hall to the kitchen. "Yeah... I've been doing a lot of construction work, helping people out. I did a lot of work on this place for Mrs. Salus," Dean stopped inside the kitchen and glanced back at Sam. "You uh... want a beer or soda or something?" He rubbed along the back of his neck, tying to stifle some of his own nerves.

"Uh.. Sam wandered into the kitchen a little way so he could see it, "whatever you're having is fine." The place was great; the workmanship was some of the best that Sam had ever seen. "So...those kids seem great." He leaned against the door frame, "you spend a lot of time with them?" Sam had never seen that side of Dean, well, except maybe when he was a kid himself. He had memories of countless hours that Dean spent patiently answering Sam's questions, reading to him, chasing him around the yards of too many houses to even remember.

Reaching into the fridge Dean pulled out a couple of beers and set them on the counter, closing the door before twisting the caps off. "Yeah, I watch them at least three nights a week. And whenever Shelia picks up an extra shift. Her partner is stationed in Iraq so they need all the help they can get. And... I love them both. It's pretty great to watch them grow." Dean smiled softly as he thought of the kids, offering a bottle to Sam before grasping his own. "You wanna sit in here or the living room?" He asked, glancing at the table then thinking about being on the couch with Sam, not sure which one would be better.

"Wow... I never thought you were the kinda guy who liked kids." Sam smiled and shrugged, "living room?" He backed out of the kitchen to let Dean pass then followed him into the living room. "I love this place, you did all this work yourself?" Sam put his beer down on a coffee table in front of the couch and wandered over to the bookshelf, finger trailing along the spine of the books.

"A lot of it yeah," Dean nodded and settled onto the couch, watching Sam move as his fingers tightened on the bottle. "Not everything here is mine, but I've updated it some since I inherited it," he wet his lips slowly before taking a long drink of beer. He wondered what all of this must look like to Sam, if his brother was beginning to wonder if he knew Dean at all. Dean was fairly confident that he didn't know his brother in the slightest.

Wandering around the outside of the room Sam stopped in his tracks when he saw a picture of him. "Hey," he turned and smiled at Dean, "you don't hate me." His smile was meant to soften the words, make it a _joke_ but Sam was strangely touched that Dean even _had_ a picture of him, let alone had it out.

Dean bristled at the words and narrowed his eyes. "Of _course_ I don't hate you," he said, voice quiet and tense as he blew out a breath and looked away. He couldn't explain anything to Sam, couldn't begin to form words for their situation, and Dean wondered why he'd ever thought this was a good idea. Chances were he'd blurt something stupid out and freak the hell out of his brother. "So. Have you graduated yet? What are you doing with your life?" Dean switched topics, figuring it was safest.

Sam reached out as though he was going to pick up the photo then pulled his hand back and walked over to the couch. Picking up his beer he sat down at the opposite end of the couch. "Finished my undergrad this year, took the LSAT, did pretty good. I'm hoping to get into law school ... I think... I'm not sure. Seems like the right thing to do." He took a sip of his beer and stole a glance at Dean's face. "You don't really want ... me here do you?" His voice was quiet; the sadness in him easy to hear in the way his voice wavered. He laughed softly. "I must have been a crappy little brother..."

"It's not you," Dean said truthfully, more honest then Sam could know. This wasn't _his_ Sam. Not the one he'd had for too brief a time, the one he should have had forever. Sighing, Dean shifted to face him slightly, rolling his shoulders in a familiar shrug. "I know I'm... being an ass. It's... I can't really explain things. Guess it's just a big shock to see you after so long. I'm sure you're just as surprised to find me here," Dean pulled from his beer bottle and turned away once more.

"Well," Sam leaned back on the couch, trying to relax, "I certainly wasn't expecting to see you there... and kissing a guy. Granted, an attractive guy," he laughed and brought the beer up to his lips for a few sips. He was going to need more than one beer to get through this meeting. It was like sitting next to a wild animal. If Dean was telling the truth, and it wasn’t hostility, Sam had no idea what Dean was so tense about. Sure, they'd lost touch, but they'd been close once. Best friends maybe.

"Oh, well yeah that wasn't exactly planned," Dean snorted and shook his head. "Actually it was planned. Eliza's been begging me and Ian to make out for months. I think if she had her way she'd watch me fuck-" Dean cut off sharply and blinked owlishly before swallowing and looking away. Somehow talking about fucking a guy in front of Sam just was too much. "So uh... you think guys are attractive huh? Bi too?" He quirked an eyebrow at Sam, lip curving into a slight smirk.

Sam felt a slight heat burning on his cheeks, "well, maybe." He shrugged and turned his beer bottle around his palm. "There were some... guys... but never the right ...okay, Dean? Let's not talk about this." Sam shifted nervously. "They must be really good friends if she let you do that..." Sam looked at Dean out of the corner of his eye and licked his lips, "to her husband." It had been pretty hot. Sam rubbed at his eyes, shutting down _that_ line of thinking immediately. Obviously lack of sleep and nerves was starting to get to him.

"Fiancé," Dean corrected, staring at Sam and trying to figure out why he was so against the subject of discussing other guys. Then again, he didn't really want to think about Sam with anyone else, let alone a _guy_. "And yeah, they're good friends. We've been working together for a couple of years. They uh... are very open minded," he chuckled softly and shook his head. "So... Jess seems nice. You two been together long?" Dean didn't really want to talk about this either but he thought it was the polite thing to do, asking at least.

"A while now, couple years in total I guess," Sam smiled over at his brother. "On and off," he added. It was messed up having a conversation with someone who'd once known him better than anyone in the world and realizing that they now knew nothing about each other. "Guess I should settle down... been thinkin' about it." He grinned at Dean, flashing his dimples. "Hey," he stretched his legs out to the side a little as he got comfy, "what about you? You seeing anyone? Who's the love of _your_ life?"

"No one," Dean shook his head sharply and drained the rest of his beer, twisting the bottle beneath his fingers. "I haven't had a steady relationship in years," he shrugged and tried to ignore how jealous sparked through him as Sam talked about settling down. "Anything else new? I mean... besides probably everything that's happened in the last few years," Dean half chuckled, the noise not nearly as amused as it should be.

"We kind of suck at this don't we?" Sam leaned his head back on the couch and turned to look at his brother. "How come we ... how come we drifted apart like this? I have all these memories from when I was a kid, hours and hours of time you and I spent together." He laughed quietly and averted his eyes, "I'm not just makin' that up am I?"

Dean blinked a few times, eyes fixed on the coffee table in front of him. "No. You're not." He said softly and his heart clenched painfully. He wished he could explain it to Sam but that was impossible. Truthfully, Dean had no idea what had happened in Sam's mind when he left. Whatever memory Sam had about leaving before college was a mystery to Dean. "I... I guess I felt you should have your own life or whatever. Seemed unfair to drag you back into... well... I went to see you once," Dean found himself confessing, knowing his voice was thick with sadness. "But you were with... Jess presumably. Didn't want to interrupt," tears pricked along the edge of his eyes and Dean looked away to prevent Sam from seeing the emotion.

Sam felt something tighten across his chest. He'd never thought that Dean even cared enough to find out where he was. Sam had no idea why, but the emotion welling up inside him was hard to handle. "I...” he cleared his throat, "I would have liked to have seen you." He looked down at the mouth of the beer bottle, running the pad of his finger around the lip. "Felt a bit like I had no one by the time I got to school. The way you were ... when I left..." Sam's eyes grew a little distant as he remembered the night before he left for Stanford. "Well, everyone said a lot of things... well; I said a lot of things I didn't mean."

Curiosity sparked up in him but Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know what had been said. "I'm sorry... for anything that I said... I never meant it," Dean insisted, feeling slightly odd to be apologizing for something he couldn't even remember, that technically never even happened. "I've... always missed you..." Dean's words caught in his throat and he pushed up from the couch, snatching the empty beer bottle. "I need another beer," he muttered and headed for the kitchen.

Jolting forward in surprise as Dean shot up off the couch Sam almost dropped his beer and shaking his head set it on the table. "Maybe... maybe I should go," he mumbled as he stood up, rubbing his hands nervously on his thighs. It didn't seem to matter what he said to Dean it made his brother more and more nervous. "I never meant...to make things harder," he raised his voice a little so he was sure Dean could hear him.

Leaning against the kitchen wall Dean could no longer stop the tears the streamed along the curve of his cheeks. He felt weak and stupid, mourning the loss of something his brother didn't even _want_. "Yeah... b-bye Sam," he called, cringing when the word cracked before he slid down the wall, legs pulling up to his chest. Dean slammed his head back into the wall in frustration. His life had been just _fine_ before and then the world had to throw everything back at him as some sort of cruel joke and _still_ all Dean could think about was dragging Sam in and crushing their lips together.

Scratching his head Sam moved slowly toward the front door. Maybe it had been a stupid idea to come over there, he hadn't seemed to accomplish much by being there other than making his brother uncomfortable. Maybe one day, he could give Dean a call and they'd... "Dean...” Sam called out, turned and striding down the hall into the kitchen. "Can I at least have your phone..." the words died on his tongue as he looked around the kitchen, eyes finally sliding down to the crumpled form of his brother. Dropping like a lead weight to his knees, Sam shifted close and reached out to grab Dean's shoulders. "What happened? Dean? Are you okay?"

It was likely the combined stress of the last twenty four hours and four years having to deal with the fact that his brother had so easily given up what they had, all mixed together in his senses and causing Dean to slide back across the wall, skittering away from Sam. "Just... just _go_ ," he pleaded, wiping roughly at his eyes and sucking in a sharp breath. Dean could feel himself breaking apart, falling to pieces and unable to make it stop.

"Dean..." Sam's brow furrowed, hands dropping in front of him as his brother pulled away yet again. "Please... we... _God_ Dean you're my brother, let me help..." Sam's voice wavered. He didn't know what to do. His entire life he'd never seen his brother upset by anything... not like this, _never_ like this. Shifting a little closer he reached out a hand, "don't make me go... all worried about you..." Sam already had a feeling that if he walked out that door he wouldn't be welcome back.

"You can't help," Dean snapped and pushed up, shaking the grief from his body. He told himself that he had to keep it together long enough to get Sam out of the house. The smart choice was just to get Sam to go back to his happy little life and Dean could somehow resume his own. Dean was as happy as he could ever be but sadly that would never involve having Sam as part of his life. It simply hurt too much. His brother had made his choice. "I'm sorry but you really should just go now. I... don't know how..." Dean shook his head and folded his arms across his chest as a protective barrier. "Sorry. Please. Just go," he pleaded, voice betraying just how broken he felt.

"You know," Sam could feel tears prickling along the edges of his eyes, "I just wanted..." Sam's voice broke, "wanted my brother back." Rubbing his hand up and down his cheek a few times Sam's shoulders sagged, heart heavy. "I just wanted you back. I'm sorry." Tears started to fall as he turned and by the time he got to his boots he could barely see. He nearly fell over twice trying to get them on and fumbled with the door knob before finally managing to pull it open and get outside. Swiping angrily as his tears he ran down the front steps, yanked the gate open and took off up the street.

Dean's fingers curled around the beer bottle on the table, anger, frustration and sadness building up in him. Tilting his head back Dean let out a startling loud scream and chucked the beer bottle across the kitchen, watching it shatter against the wall. This whole _fucking_ thing was ridiculous. And then, something he'd never thought would happen again had happened.

"Boy you two sure know how to set off fireworks," the man, as before, appeared out of thin air. Only now Dean knew he wasn't a man. Thanks to Mrs. Salus' books this _demigod_ was no longer much of a mystery. Though what issue he had with Dean and Sam it was hard to say.

"You shouldn't have come here," Dean spat and brushed past the _creature_ , heading down the hall and into the living room in the pretence of escaping the thing's presence. He hadn't used his hunter skills for several years but they came back almost on instinct. His fingers slid along the shelves, over a small box, subtlety lifting the lid to pull a bag out.

The creature laughed and slid his fingers over the still velvet blue suit coat he wore. "But how could I resist the heartache. You know Dean, I knew being without Sam would _hurt_ you but jeez I never thought you two would find each other again. Fate must have a stick up her ass regarding you. Bet it just _burns_ knowing how happy Sam is without you."

Dean's shoulders were tense as he turned, fingers slowly working the plastic bag in his grip. "So... you did this all to _hurt_ me? What's the matter? Did I kill your puppy or something?" Dean scoffed in annoyance and half stepped forward.

"Hardly," the thing rolled his eyes and brushed the loose strands of hair back from his brow. "But I thought it fitting you get a taste of the heartache you can cause by _killing_. Good to see you've learned your lesson. Too bad you weren't enough to keep Sam around."

"Fuck you," Dean spat, tired of the creature and it's bullshit. Darting forward Dean slammed the thing hard against the wall, hand lifting up to slam the mixed ingredients into his mouth. He could see icy blue eyes widen in surprise as Dean held his palm roughly over the mouth and his free hand hooked around his neck, sliding his across the wall and down the hall.

They stumbled into the kitchen and Dean slammed him back into the counter, fumbling for the knives in their hold on the counter. Dean barely managed to pull one up as the creature began flaying about, the herbs and mixture burning inside his mouth. Dean brought the knife down hard through the creature’s heart, driving in with force. He had no idea if killing it would change anything, but the idea of it being _gone_ was enough to settle the temporary upset rising in him.

As Dean fell backward a light built inside the creature. Dean caught a last glimpse of wide icy eyes before the creature was consumed in the brightness. He turned away from the light, flinching and covering his eyes with a raised forearm. When he looked back up the thing was gone, knife spinning in slow circles along the floor.

Once more Dean dropped to the kitchen floor, shaking slightly from the sudden fight. He blinked slowly, trying to get his heart to calm its racing, body curling together.

"What the fuck..." a gasp whisper came from the door and Dean's head shot up, spotting a wide eyed Eliza and Ian, mouths dropped in shared shock.

"Shit," Dean groaned and pushed up from the floor, fumbling forward. "I... god _Damnit_ when will you two learn to knock?"

"We heard... something... and uh..." Ian was turning his gaze between the place where the creature had been and where Dean now stood. "What the fuck?" He repeated Eliza's earlier sentiment.

Sighing softly Dean brushed past them, leading them into the living room. "C'mon, sit down. Might as well explain it to you."

Despite their hesitant looks, Eliza and Ian followed, sitting on the couch beside him slowly.

-=-=-=-

"So..." Eliza whispered when Dean finally finished explaining the existence of supernatural creatures and how he'd spent his whole life fighting them with his father and brother. He hadn't added the information about Sam being the brother in question but he knew it was only a matter of time until things got around to that. "That uh... demigod... pissed you off?"

"You could say that," Dean snorted and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. "He um... took something from me. Or well... made it possible for something to be taken from me. He put the offer on the table, for that... something... to you know... go away. The something." Dean swallowed and looked up at his friends, eyes slightly wide.

"Someone?" Ian suggested, picking up on the unspoken meaning behind the words. Dean often thought the two had an uncanny way of knowing more about him than he ever said. Like they had simply stopped trying to figure him out and settled on the fact that whatever it was that made Dean who he was, they were just going to accept it. Dean couldn't believe people really did exist that would be _that_ un-judgmental.

Dean nodded and swallowed, fingers twisting together. "My brother." His heart clenched upon saying the word, like he was confessing his deepest, darkest secret. With a little shake of his hands, Dean realized it was exactly what he was doing. Speaking a truth he hadn't faced in years.

"He killed your brother?" Eliza gasped, eyes fluttering with shock as her hand rose to cover her mouth.

Dean winced and shook his head, panic flaring up in him, "no. No he didn't kill him. He just um... it... it's... god I can't really go into this."

"Dean, you just told us that demons, ghosts, and a whole lot of other shit is real which, okay really fucking weird but not _completely_ unexpected," Eliza laughed softly and reached out to take his hand. "Trust me, there's very little that could shock us at this point."

Somehow he doubted the statement but it was a secret Dean had held for _so_ long and the urge to tell _anyone_ was suddenly too overwhelming to ignore. "Sam is my brother. That guy. From last night. From the picture." Dean gestured to the picture in question.

"But I thought that was your lov... oh..." Ian frowned then his eyes widened. Almost in time with Eliza's which would have been amusing if Dean wasn't terrified that they were about to call him a slew of very disgusting names and possibly make work from now on very difficult. " _Oh._ "

"You two were..." Eliza wet her lips slowly and blinked a few times. "You and Sam were like... _together_?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded and rubbed at his neck, sighing shakily. "For... half a year or so... then I got hurt on a hunt... and... when I woke up he..." Dean swallowed thickly and looked to the side, fresh tears pricking at his eyes. "He was gone. That _thing_ had offered him the chance to erase his memory of our time together and have a normal and happy life. Sam did it. He started over in California. Which is... well... where he was until he randomly showed up here and made me relive the pain all over again."

"Jesus... did something happen?" Ian asked in shock, though he sounded less shocked about the information that Dean had been involved with his brother and more shocked that something could just _happen_ so soon after not seeing each other for so long. "We saw you two talking but... we never thought..."

"No. No of course not. Why would he even see me that way again? Now I'm just his asshole brother and I have this feeling I'm never gonna see him again," Dean leaned into Eliza's warmth when she wrapped an arm over his shoulder. "I can't figure out if that's a good or bad thing. I'm thinking bad. Really bad. But it's too late now."

"Damn Dean..." Eliza whispered and scratched her fingers along the base of his neck. "No wonder you never talk about your life before. Talk about complicated."

Dean let out a surprised huff of laughter and nodded. "Yeah, you're telling me." _Complicated_ didn't even begin to cover it.

For awhile they sat in silence, Dean letting his two friends soak in the news, relaxing under the small hand low on his back and Ian's larger one massaging his neck. "So... what happened with Sam then?" Eliza asked softly, glancing over at him. "I mean, you said it was too late now... did...?"

"He wanted to get together," Dean said softly, shifting back on the couch and smiling slightly when both Ian and Eliza shifted into his side until the three were all pressed flush together. "I told him no a couple of times. I mean, what was I supposed to do? I remember... _everything_ and when I look at him all I can think about is the way he felt under me, how good he tasted, what it felt like to be _in_ him and kiss him and _love_ him. And all he remembers is me being his wanna-be cool big brother." Dean glanced at each in turn, face flushing with color. He hadn't really meant to say all of those things but they slipped out regardless. After all Eliza and Ian did have this way of making him confess secrets, apparently.

"So uh..." Ian swallowed and scratched along the side of his neck. "You're a top huh? I feel like I should have guessed that already."

Both Dean and Eliza turned to him with comically wide eyes before bursting into laughter. "The fact that you made that association from my comment is slightly disturbing," Dean pointed out and bumped their shoulders together. "I'm sure you two lie around and think about me having sex all the time."

"Duh," they said in unison, sparking up another round of laughter.

By the time he stopped laughing tears were building along the edges of his eyes and he wiped at them, shaking his head as he caught his breath. "You two kill me," he muttered and rubbed his palm into his slightly aching side. "So you really don't have an issue with the fact that I uh... used to be... you know... sleeping with my brother?"

"Well, it's a little more kinky than I anticipated but, I guess we always knew something major had to have taken place in your life to make you the way you are," Ian smiled and dragged a hand through his thick black hair. "So... you caved and said yes to seeing him?"

"How could I not?" Dean asked honestly, looking at first Ian than Eliza. "I still... you know I still love him _so_ much. I can't just get over that. Even after four years and I'm fairly certain it's always gonna be that way. Now I'm thinking I'm just gonna spend the rest of my life comparing any potential relationship to my _brother_ and how fucked up is that? Seriously even having sex with random strangers is hard. I spend most of the time trying not to call them Sam by accident."

"Four years?" Eliza whispered and reached out to take his hand, squeezing it gently. "That's a long time to love someone without them..." she trailed off sadly.

Dean laughed humourlessly and rolled his shoulders in a shrug, spreading his fingers to weave Eliza's between his. "I've loved him longer than that. It... It started when he was sixteen. Which was just fuel to the fire I guess. We were swimming in this lake by the house we were in and he stripped and..." Dean wet his lips, eyes fluttering for a moment as he remembered the day so vividly. "Of _course_ I responded. I'd already accepted that I liked guys possibly more than girls and he was all lean and skin and... fuck anyone with a sane mind would have responded to that." Glancing up he realized Eliza and Ian both seemed to be transfixed on him so he swallowed thickly and continued. "I didn't _do_ anything though. Not then. He was just a kid after all. Then... shortly after his eighteenth birthday... we were just wrestling one night. We were on a hunt by ourselves, some poltergeist in North Dakota or something. Anyway I was teasing him about how long his hair was getting and he tackled me onto the bed..." Dean's voice grew distant as the words continued to fall from his lips, unable to stop now that he started. "It would have been any other normal time when we wrestled... only his crotch brushed against mine and I realized he was just as hard as me... then... you know, we had one of those _moments_. You know, were your eyes meet and you can just _feel_ the electricity. I have no idea how long he had looked at me with something more than brotherly affection but I'd been waiting two years. So... I just... kissed him. And... well, I'm sure you can put it together."

"Nope," Eliza shook her head roughly, face slightly flush. "I haven't the vaguest idea what could have happened next. Please continue. With as much detail as possible."

Both Dean and Ian laughed though Dean noticed the shift in his hips as well, "Eliza, you're such a perv." He scoffed and shook his head, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear. "Is there anything that doesn't turn you on?"

"When it comes to gay guys?" Eliza quirked an eyebrow and laughed. "Not at all. Seriously, my number one wedding present was you two kissing, it should be a given that I am kinky by definition."

Blowing out a breath Dean settled back onto the couch. He was oddly surprised by how the story had affected him as well. He could clearly remember the wide glint to Sam's eyes, the way his hips had rolled slowly, nervously, up into his. The flash of soft pink tongue as it dragged slowly across slightly parted lips. Dean imagined he could even hear Sam's gentle pant. And he could _feel_ a firm hand cupping him. Which yanked him from his fantasy fast as lightning and sent his eyes fluttering open.

Ian's hand was sliding surely along his crotch, body inches from him and Dean's eyes shot to Eliza. He wasn't too surprised that her face was only flushed, lip caught between her teeth as she stared fixedly down at her fiancé’s hand along his jeans. "W-what..." he stuttered out, trailing off in a moan as Ian applied more pressure and his hips moved up into the touch.

"We thought you could use a little relief," Ian murmured, leaning forward to brush his nose against Dean's cheek. "Get some of that tension worked out of you."

Fingers burned under his waistline and Dean groaned, arching up enough for Ian to free the button from its hold, dragging the zipper down. "G-god..." Dean moaned as Ian's fingers pushed under his boxers and curled over his flesh. "You two are... so..." Dean's hips were pulled roughly up and Ian's fingers withdrew enough to curl along the fabric and tug down. It went without saying that Dean certainly had an interesting choice in friends.

"Just enjoy it Dean," Eliza whispered, scratching her nails along the base of Dean's neck.

Ian slid off the couch, tugging Dean's pants down with him until he could pull them off his feet and toss them to the side. He smiled up at Dean as their eyes locked and slid forward, fingers curling around his neck and weaving with Eliza's as he drew him forward another open mouthed kiss. Dean could feel a hand on his thigh, curling into the muscle and massaging steadily. Dean moaned as a tongue broke forward to swirl steadily around his own. He felt a hand slide under his shirt, sharp nails curving into his skin, dragging along his nipple in a slow spiral. Dean sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, body rolling up to try to gain some friction.

The kiss broke for a moment; long enough to feel the warm fabric of his shirt pull up over his head and fall to the side. There was just a brief moment in which he could feel both pairs of eyes fixed to him and flushed slightly under the stare. "I am... uh... very naked..." Dean mumbled, looking between them both with slightly lust blown eyes.

"You're lots of things," Ian pointed out and the fingers on his thigh shifted to curl once more around the base of his cock. "Fucking huge would be one of them."

"Drop dead gorgeous?" Eliza suggested. Tongue sliding over her lips her eyes once more fixed in on her fiancé’s hand along red swollen flesh.

Ian dipped down and flicked his tongue out, trailing along the bead of precome at the tip of Dean's cock, smirking when the man moaned and arched up into the touch. "Earthy. Salty. Not too bad."

"He's always been a tease," Eliza pointed out and ruffled a hand through Dean's hair.

Dean was starting to think that his two friends were _really_ trying to kill him. After the emotional torment of the last twenty four hours, this full body stimulation was nearly enough to drive him insane. Wet heat dragged along the underside of his cock, twisting pleasure along his spine as his neck curved back into the cushion and rolled slowly. Dean reached out, hand fluttering along Ian's shoulder before settling in thick black hair, fingers spreading to lock into the silk.

A deep moan fell from Ian's lips as his mouth opened wide and sank down over Dean's flesh, sucking him in expertly enough to tell Dean this wasn't the first time he'd done this. Beside him he could hear Eliza's quickened breath and his eyes dropped to fix on the sight of swollen lips sliding along his hard flesh. Heat worked its way through him steadily, surging blood through his veins and blurring his vision.

Ian sucked him expertly, alternating between hard and soft, the flick of his tongue counteracting the graze of teeth. Pressure encased the entire length of him as Ian's jaw relaxed and swallowed him whole. "Fuck," Dean spat, hand tightening with a sharp tug as his orgasm surged forth. "I'm gonna..." he hissed out a warning, aware of the release just barely out of reach.

"It's okay," Eliza whispered from beside him, words coming out in a soft pant. "He likes to swallow."

The words were oddly filthy and dirty, and Dean's lips parted in a soft O as he let that pleasure go and came hard into Ian's mouth. By this point it wasn't surprising that Ian swallowed without hesitation or spilling a drop, fingers sliding over Dean's balls for a moment before he withdrew completely, wetting his lips and smiling. Dean sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to steady his lungs and the rapidly flutter of his heart. Before he could completely steady himself Ian was pulling him in, crushing their lips together, and shoving his tongue roughly into Dean's still parted mouth.

Dean gasped softly as Ian pulled back and instantly turned to Eliza, dragging her half across Dean's lips to kiss her roughly. "Can we..." Ian mumbled into the kiss.

"Borrow guestroom?" Eliza finished, grinning at Dean as Ian broke back. "And yes, earthy and salty. Not at all unpleasant."

Nodding slowly Dean gestured toward the guest room. His friends’ lips slid together as they clambered up off the floor and nearly ran through the living room and down the hall. Blinking slowly Dean pushed himself up and looked around for his shirt and pants. "Well," he muttered and grabbed his boxers, pushing up to step into them. "That was unexpected." Dean half chuckled and shook his head. It didn't necessarily make things _right_ but Dean felt oddly comforted that he had such support and willing to comfort him friends.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time Sam had returned to the Hotel in New Orleans he was a complete and utter mess. He fell into Jess' arms, crying until she finally managed to soothe him enough that he fell into a fitful sleep. When Sam woke in the morning he was inconsolable and insisted that they return to Palo Alto regardless of the fact they still had two weeks of vacation left. No matter what Jess said, Sam was resolved, he didn't want to chance another meeting with Dean.

It was easy to change their plane tickets and Sam and Jess departed later that afternoon. Jess extracted promises from Zach and Madison that they'd have a great time, and they were gone.

Jess tried to talk to Sam in the airport shuttle, in the departure lounge and on the plane. She gave up somewhere hundreds of miles above New Mexico as the flight attendant handed Sam his third beer. Sam remained silent. Apart from the occasional _please_ or _thanks_ he said nothing. He just sat there on the plane running through his brother's words over and over. It felt like he'd been sucker punched. He'd just wanted things to be better between them and now, it felt like the damage was irreparable. He wasn't sure what he had expected from his visit with Dean but he was sure that it wasn't being thrown out of his brother's house. And... the hurt on Dean’s face. Sam wished there was a way that he could understand what he'd done to his brother.

The plane landed on time and Sam got a cab for them. They were back at their apartment in no time. Sam muttered an excuse and dragged the luggage up to the bedroom, stripped and climbed into bed. The sheets smelled vaguely of Jess' shampoo and Sam felt like his world was falling apart. There were tears on his cheeks when he finally fell asleep.

 _The cool air woke Sam as the covers moved and then drifted back down over him. Sniffing, scratching the end of his nose, Sam nestled back down into his pillow. He was just about asleep when a large rough palm slipped over his waist and he jumped, then struggled to untangle himself from the sheets and turn over. Warm breath against his ear stopped him, stubble rough cheek rubbing against the sensitive flesh of his ear. "Shhh, I got you, Sammy."_

 _Dean. Dean's voice was rough, thick, breath moist and hot against Sam's flesh. Tugging Sam's head back and to the side Dean sank his teeth into his brother's neck. He rolled the skin between his teeth, sending lust flooding through Sam's body. His hips twitched forward then back, Sam’s entire body caught in a tremble of fear and longing. It was dark in the bedroom, he must have been asleep for hours then he was lost in the scent of his brother. Familiar, musty ... the sweetness of old leather and the spicy undertone of Dean. It took Sam back in a swirl of memory to places he'd never thought he'd been. The front seat of the Impala - a flash of rose, freckled flesh above kiss swollen lips._

 _"D...Dean...how..." The question died on Sam's lips as he managed to turn in his brother's arms and saw those eyes. His breath leaked out of his body in a long slow hiss. The glint of green in the shadows of the room. Dean's breath danced across Sam's lips the moment before their mouths connected. Sam's heart lurched in his chest, body stiffening, and hand moving to Dean's chest as if to press him back._

 _"Never hurt you, Sammy." Sammy. The name ricocheted through Sam's mind. It had only ever sounded right when Dean said it. Closing his eyes Sam drifted closer, body just needing to be closer and then fitting perfectly against Dean's. Chest to chest, hand snaking under Dean's muscular arm, shudder of want slithering its way down Sam's body. "I..." There were a thousand words trapped in Sam's chest. Why was Dean there? How did he find him?_

 _Sam's thought froze and then smashed and scattered as Dean's mouth claimed his. Hot, slick with spit, insistent. Dean's tongue probed forward, slipping along the bottom of Sam's teeth, claiming, and then sliding full and wet into Sam's mouth._

 _Gasping, mouth falling open, Sam moaned and his hand crawled up Dean's broad back. Long fingers slid into the soft curls at the nape of Dean's neck, favourite spot. The shudder again, like a wave through his vision and the air was filled with the steady pounding sound of Sam's heartbeat. "I can't..." he mumbled into the sweetness of his brother full lips. Sucking kisses along Dean's bottom lip even as he spoke, Sam's fingers curled into the flesh of Dean's neck, gripping, "can't..."_

 _"S'okay." The sound of Dean's voice wrapped around Sam's spine, slipped into his soul and settled his fears. He didn't even know what he was protesting. Hanging on to Dean like he was drowning, Sam gasped for air and threw his head back. "Can't lose you..." he murmured..._

Jack-knifing up in bed Sam gasped in a lung full of air and coughed, body almost doubling over as he tried to breathe his way back to awake. _Dean_.

"Sam?" Jess lurched up, pushing herself up from the bed to kneel at Sam's side. "Was a dream, baby... you okay?" She rubbed his shoulder gently, brow furrowed with concern.

"N..No..." Sam shook off her touch, flinching like it burned his skin. _Don't take him away_. Closing his eyes, hands covering his face - Sam took a few slow, deep breaths. "S'all wrong..." Suddenly cold, Sam tugged the blankets back up over his chest. "M'fine, sorry, go to sleep... I just... I just need some time..."

A flash of hurt spun across Jess' features and Sam looked away.

Fighting his way out from under the covers Sam snatched his jeans off the floor and pulled them on.

He could feel the ghost of his brother from his dream. His neck ached where he'd felt the pressure of Dean's teeth locking onto his flesh. Sam's fingers fluttered to the side of his neck as he padded down the hall into the living room.

The dream was still pressing at Sam, teasing the sensation of lost memories to the forefront of his mind. He changed direction at the last minute and pushed through the bathroom door and searched frantically through the medicine cabinet until his fingers curled around a bottle of Tylenol. It felt like his head was splitting apart, like someone was trying to stuff years of thoughts into his head all at once. Groaning Sam leaned forward over the sink.

Flashes of his brother's face slid in and out of his vision and Sam stumbled backwards until he hit the wall. Closing his eyes he slid down, flesh burning against the tile. Thumping down to the carpet Sam pulled his knees up close to his chest and rocked slightly back and forth.

 _Sammy_. Only sounded right when Dean called him that. _Spread out over the hood of the car, hot black metal burning his ass and back. Dean_. Moaning softly Sam banged his head back hard against the wall. The smell of gasoline oil, leather, it was burning Sam's nostrils and making his eyes water.

Sliding down onto the floor Sam curled up on his side, pain slamming into his head like a sledgehammer.

Words stabbed into Sam's consciousness poking holes in the reality in front of him. _Dean_. Sam's fingers scraped at the carpet. _Glistening skin, fingers curled around Dean's pendent._ Moaning softly Sam crawled towards the bathtub until he could press his forehead against the cool porcelain gratefully. _Sleep-sweat, musk, nuzzling into short golden brown hair under crisp Motel room sheets._

Sam's mind was whirling. New images, old sensations. _Loss_. Loss was everywhere; he could taste it on his tongue, bitter and fowl. _Losing Dean_. Bile rose in the back of Sam's throat as hours of tension and grief crammed its way back into his mind. _Dean was dying_. "Nooo," Sam groaned out as he rolled onto his back.  
He thought he could hear Jess banging on the door but it could have just been the banging inside his head. "Don't die," Sam whispered.

His arm darted out and he pulled himself up in time to cough then throw-up into the toilet bowl. " _Fuck_ ," he groaned. _Dean will die. Nothing left we can do._ Letting himself fall back against the side of the bathtub Sam snatched at the towel that was hanging on the rack and rubbed it over his face. "Wendigo..." Sam muttered. Lunging to his feet and fought with the door for a few moments before he realized he had locked it. Flinging to door open he stumbled out, almost slamming into Jess.

"Jesus _Christ_ Sam. What the _hell_ is going on?" Her face was flushed with anger, fear sparked across her eyes as Sam pushed past her.

"I ... I gotta get to Dean." Sam stumbled up the hallway to the bedroom. His hand was pressed to his forehead, vision blurred slightly.

"Oh _Hell_ no..." Jess followed him down the hallway, "Sam, you're obviously sick, there's something... what's going on? Why won't you talk to me?"

Sam could hear panic creeping into her voice.

"I just, things are wrong... this shouldn't have happened." Sam bumped into the door frame as he moved into the bedroom.

"Sam, baby... just stop." Jess tried to tug Sam back toward the bed.

He shook her off again, moving to the closet and pulling it open to retrieve his backpack. "I need to get back to Dean. Jess..." Sam turned to face her for a few moments, "I'm remembering... things. It's... this..." his arm swept around the room. "This isn't the way things should have been, it's not the way they were."

"You're not making any sense, Sam." Jess took a step back toward the bedroom door. "Why don't I call Zach and have him come over."

"Listen to me!" Sam yelled. He lowered his voice almost instantly. "It's not about this, you... it's me - something..." A face skittered across Dean's mind; long blond hair and a sinister smile. "He... he changed things and made them all wrong and now I have to make it right."

Jess slumped down onto the end of their bed, staring at Sam as though he'd lost his mind. _Hell_ , Sam was starting to feel like he _was_ losing his mind. "Jess, I'm fine - you gotta trust me. I just can't explain this to you right now. I've... I've only got pieces and I need to figure this out. Dean's dying... Dean was dying..." The now and the past and everything else that had ripped its way through Sam's mind in the past few hours was crashing about inside him and he couldn't pull the pieces apart anymore. Scrubbing his hands over his face Sam turned quickly and yanked some clothes out of a drawer and stuffed them into his backpack.

It took a lot of arguing, convincing and promising for Sam to get out of the door. He left his _home_ with his backpack and his laptop, clutching the piece of paper with Dean's address on it. Waiting in line, then waiting in seats, then waiting in a coffee shop for hours Sam finally managed to get a ticket on a flight to New Orleans. Staring at his ticket he realized that he couldn't even get to Dean's before one a.m. but hoped that it was a night he worked at the bar. With hours to wait Sam tried to sort through the images that were flooding his mind, the thoughts, new memories. The onslaught had slowed but Sam felt like he was two different people. Some of it remained just out of Sam's grasp. _Dean was dying_. But he didn't die, obviously and it had something to do with the man with the blond hair. He found himself rubbing at his eyes repeatedly, trying to stem the ache that had settled into the center of his forehead.

By the time he was called to board his flight Sam was exhausted and moved slowly down to the gate and settled gratefully into his plane seat. Eyes closed against the lights in the cabin Sam curled against the window and covered himself with his jacket.

 _Dean's mouth was like fire across Sam’s back. Everywhere his brother's lips touched became the center of everything, Sam's focus, all he could feel and all he wanted. They rolled together, switching places. Flesh slid past flesh and Sam's heart thudded out the same rhythm as his brother's. All unspoken, Sam could sense how much his brother loved him, feel it even when they were just walking side by side down the dirt roads. He could feel it more when Dean bumped their shoulders together._

 _Each breath Sam took in smelled of Dean's hair, the sweat the settled in the dip at the bottom of his neck, the oil and grease that wafted up from his hands sometimes as they brushed across Sam's cheek. It was all Dean and the scent was forever burned into Sam's mind._

 _Their bodies moved together forever. Slick and hot, lips on shoulder blades, teeth against the sensitive skin of a neck. Dean's hands, rough and strong, moved over Sam's body like he was painting it with as many colours as he could. Sam's sounds were all sighs, moans, and his brother's name. Dean._

The voice of the flight attendant shot Sam out of his dream and he slammed his head against the side of the plane. Smiling apologetically at the woman beside him Sam shifted in his seat. They were landing, _thank God_. Sam's backpack was small enough that he had stowed it in an overhead bin with his laptop so he could easily get out of the airport and be at Dean's in under two hours. Surely Dean could tell him something, help him understand.

Wiping the sweat off his forehead Sam was distracted by the images from his dream, his brother's arms wrapped around him, lips brushing across his cheek and down his jaw. _God_ he wanted to be near Dean, try and make his brother understand what had happened.

As soon as the plane came to a halt in New Orleans Sam had his seat belt unbuckled and was stooped over waiting for everyone to move so he could grab his back pack and head out. Fingers tapping nervously on the seat back it felt like the longest ten minutes of Sam's life as he waited for the fresh air to waft down the aisle as the large front door on the plane swung open. As soon as he was able Sam slipped out into the seemingly never-ending line of people and used his long arms to stretch over head to get his bags.

The moment he cleared security Sam broke into a run and bounced impatiently in front of the automatic doors while they opened. He waved down a cab and showed the driver the crinkled piece of paper in his hand. New Orleans, being the city it was, was still thrumming with people. It wasn't until the cab moved past a few old cemeteries that Sam realized they were finally drawing closer to Dean's house. He was exhausted, hungry, probably looked and smelled like he'd been through a battle but he didn't care. His only goal was to get to his brother.

The lights were off at Dean's house and Sam's heart fell as at taxi drove off leaving him in the quiet neighbourhood. He couldn't remember the name of Dean's neighbour nor could he remember which side her house was on so he just opened Dean's gate and dragged himself up the front steps. He rang the doorbell - the last desperate hope that Dean might be there and sleeping. There was no answer. Leaning back against the door Sam let himself slide down the dark wood and thumped onto the wooden porch. "Dean..." he murmured. Shoving his back pack out of the beam of the porch light Sam lay down and rested his head against the overfilled bag, tugged his jacket closer and waited. Finally, feeling like he'd done all he could... Sam fell into a sleep of pure exhaustion still clutching the piece of paper with Dean's address on it.

Living in New Orleans, Dean had grown accustomed to the little oddities that changed his day to day life. Of course he was still slightly reeling with the random appearance of Sam into his life and was only _finally_ starting to trust himself to not spontaneously break down. Which was why arriving home at nearly three in the morning only to find his brother passed out on his front step nearly made him scream in frustration.

"Sam?" Dean said slowly, kneeling to peer into his brother's relaxed features. Instinctively Dean reached out to tuck his hair behind his ear and sighed, thumb sliding down his brother's jaw as he allowed himself just a moment of peace with the man. As his heart shifted to something sad and fond, Dean cleared his throat and curved a hand around Sam's shoulder, shaking slightly. "Sam? Wake up," he called, loud enough to wake him but not too loud.

Eyes fluttering open Sam licked his lips and rubbed at his mouth. "Dean?" Sam's hand whipped out to curve around his brother's neck, tugging his forward. "You're not dead. Things... there are things in my head..." he tightened his grip leaning up to press his lips to the corner of Dean's mouth. He smelled different, smoky, like beer and alcohol from the bar. And yet, the touch, so simple sent a shiver down Sam's spine.

Dean's shoulders stiffened and he pulled back, eyes wide. "I... god what are..." his eye lids fluttered for a moment and he looked around him before shaking his head. "Come inside Sam," he insisted quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make a scene on his front porch and that was about all Dean could process. His skin was tingling from the brief touch of Sam's lips and his mind was reeling. "Come on," he side stepped his brother and shoved the key roughly into the front door.

Scrambling to his feet, stiff and sore, Sam grabbed his bags and slid into the house. "Dean? It's... I'm remembering things... things that I... that must have happened." Sam stumbled over his feet and stopped to tug his shoes off. Closing the door behind him he leaned his backpack against it. "Dean?" He followed Dean into the house, eyes bleary and tired.

The words were almost numbing to Dean's mind and his shoulders remained tensed as he pulled his shoes off and shrugged out of his coat. "You... remember?" He asked slowly, turning to look at Sam and trying to decipher exactly _what_ Sam remembered. "How... how much do you...?" Dean swallowed thickly before turning, shaking his head and walking swiftly down the hall to the kitchen to get a large glass of water.

Pacing down the hall behind his brother Sam reached out for him once again when he got to the kitchen. "It was more," his fingers curled around Dean's forearm and tugged. "We were more right?" Stepping closer Sam slid his arm around Dean's waist. " _God_ you... we... it's like it's all pouring in my head." Just touching Dean was soothing somehow, finally quelling the desire that Sam had been fighting to keep moving.

For a moment Dean swayed into the touch, sucking in a sharp breath, losing himself in Sam's scent. The hand on his arm burned heat through him and Dean swallowed thickly before pressing his hand on Sam's chest and pushing him back. "You need... to not touch," he said softly, eyes slightly wide as he stared up at Sam. "I can't... it's too much okay so just..." Dean shook his head and took another step back. "So you... you know we were more. Do you know why you don't remember now?" Some part of Dean had wondered when he killed the demigod, if it would return Sam's memories but the option seemed too good to be true. Now that Dean was finding himself in the situation, he felt far from strong enough to handle it.

Sam's brow furrowed. "Why? Dean..." Sam sighed out the name like it was all the answer he had. "We were right? I mean... isn't that what I'm seeing..." Sam stepped closer again; wanting the comfort that he knew was just out of reach. "Wrestling... we were rough housing when you... I..." Sam rubbed at his eyes and when his hands dropped he reached out to Dean. "It's right isn't it? Is that what happened?" He didn't understand why Dean looked so confused, almost like he wanted to flee. "You don't remember?"

"Of course I remember," Dean snapped, harsher than he intended. Sighing softly Dean blew out another breath and shook his head, stepping back once more. "Look you're clearly exhausted. Why don't you take the guest bed, get some sleep. I've just worked ten hours so I'm not... this isn't a good time for this conversation." Looking toward the doorway Dean took a half step that way and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "We'll talk once you've had some sleep."

"Is that why you're so mad at me?" Sam reached out and curled his fingers into Dean's shirt, "did I do something wrong?" Sam's eyes-widened, "you... don't feel the same..." Hand trembling, Sam pulled back and let his arms fall to his sides.

"Stop it," Dean nearly yelled, shoulders shaking from the intensity of the situation. "You don't _even_ get to make a suggestion like that." Dean sucked in a few more breaths to gain some type of control. "Look, you clearly don't remember everything that happened and until you do, we're not discussing this. So if you want, you can sleep in the guest bedroom." Dean turned his gaze along the floor before looking up at Sam, angrily wiping at the tears pricking on his eyes. He was seriously getting fed up with himself and his haywire emotions.

Sam had flinched back from Dean's yell, finally starting to realize how crazy it had been to come all the way back to New Orleans assuming that things would be different for Dean. "I'm sorry..." Sam took a few steps back. Everything in his soul wanted to run to Dean, wrap his arms around his brother. He _loved_ Dean. _Loved_ him. Tears slid down Sam's cheeks, slow like honey. "I'll find a hotel." Turning, he padded back down the hallway. The second time he'd been here, the second time in a row he'd managed to screw it up somehow before he even understood what had happened. Blinking away his tears Sam pulled his boots on, "I'll..." he pulled out a notebook, "here's my phone number if you ever want..." He tried to write his number down and had to cross it out twice.

Dean was torn, watching Sam's shaking shoulders, knowing that every minute his brother was here was another that his heart would continue its painful clench in his chest. "Sam, it's late. Just stay here. It would take you an hour to get to a hotel from here," Dean folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall just outside the kitchen door.

Turning slowly Sam smiled through his tears. "So you can look at me like that?" He shook his head and took a step over to the table in the hallway letting the paper fall from his fingers. "I don't know what I did," Sam's vision was blurred and every time he blinked he felt the tears forced out of his eyes. "I'm sorry though... for whatever it was... maybe..." Wiping at his face with the sleeve of his jacket Sam turned and picked up his bag. "Maybe I'll remember some... more... can you call me a cab?" He couldn't stop shivering. Everything about the past twenty-four hours had been getting to Dean's and now he didn't know what to do. Dean looked at him - like seeing him was the most painful thing in the world. That was never what Sam had wanted.

"Fine, whatever," Dean turned away from him, digging his cell phone from his pocket and keeping his back to Sam so his brother couldn't see the tears in his eyes. He brought the device up, already knowing the cab companies number from dialing it more than once on an average working night, but his fingers hesitated. "Look I'm only gonna offer this once more because rejection has never been my thing but why don't you just stay in the guest room? You can get a hotel tomorrow or whatever. You won't even see me 'cause I'm heading to bed but it'll be a hell of a lot easier on you," Dean half glanced over his shoulder at Sam, finger hesitating on the numbers on his phone. There was no other way to say it but this whole entire thing _sucked_.

"Why are you so mad?" Sam let his back pack slip out of his hand and stared hard at his brother. "What did I do?"

Pursing his lips Dean sighed and flipped his phone shut, twisting it slowly between his fingers and staring down at it. "You chose not to remember," he said quietly, something tight gripping along his heart as he faced a truth he ignored as often as possible. Looking up at Sam and seeing the confusion on his face Dean sighed and dropped his gaze once more. "You were offered a chance to not remember... what happened with us. To have a normal life or have me. And well, clearly you can see what you chose." Dean shrugged, jaw clenching.

Sam blinked a few times as he stared at his brother. "Nothing is clear to me, not a single _fucking_ thing." Closing the distance between them quickly Sam pressed up against Dean, shoving him roughly against the wall. "Tell me it's not wrong... that I feel like this... you tell me," tears were still rolling down Sam's cheeks and he leaned in hard, burying his nose in his brother's hair.

"I was never the one who thought it was wrong," Dean whispered, eyes wide as his brother's body fell against his. Almost instantly Dean could feel his own body responding to the heat of Sam and his knees dipped. "God you don't even understand," he gasped and shoved at Sam, pushing him across the hallway. "You broke my fucking heart Sam! I'm sorry you're confused and dealing with whatever but I've had to deal with the fact that you chose a whole world over what we had for the last four years so you'll forgive me my lack of patience." Tears unsurprisingly slid down his cheeks and Dean sighed heavily, turning away from his brother.

Sam had come too far to give up. Turning he moved up quietly behind Dean, slipping his arms his brother's waist. "Will you try... to help me remember? Tomorrow?" Without even questioning it Sam leaned down, pressing his lips to the back of Dean's neck. "Please... give me a chance..."

"Sam..." Dean whispered his name, leaning slightly back into him before breaking away once more. "You need to remember so you can explain to me why..." He swallowed once more and shook his head. "It's gonna... take time," he walked a few paces down the hall, turning to look at Sam when he was certain he was a safe distance away. "Are you going to stay here tonight or should I call you a cab?" Dean was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and Sam looked just as bad, the clearly both needed sleep before attempting to have any conversation that didn't involve crying.

"Stay," Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. Truthfully, he didn't want to be anywhere else. Standing there, almost frozen to the spot Sam blinked and looked down.

"Alright," Dean nodded and walked a few more steps down the hall, pushing open a door there and flipping the light on. "Guestroom." He gestured and glanced back at Sam, trying to figure out if there was something more to be said to straighten out this entire fucked up situation. Deciding there wasn't Dean shrugged and stepped back, pointing to the other doorway across the hall, "that's the bathroom."

"Thanks," Sam murmured. He was still sifting through his memories, wondering how he would find the answers Dean wanted in the mess of images in his head. All he could hang on to was the sensation of his brother's body next to his, flesh against flesh, lips gentle and bruising. Sam closed his eyes, swaying slightly.

Instinct had Dean stepping forward, hand extending to grip Sam's forearm and ensure he wasn't about to fall to the floor. "Sam, c'mon, you're exhausted." He tugged his brother into the bedroom, pushing him toward the bed. "Get some sleep... I... I'm sure tomorrow it'll be..." Dean shrugged and released his grip on Sam's arm.

Sam's hand curled over and gripped his brother's wrist. "Stay here... stay with me... I..." he blinked up at Dean. "Just tonight... I'll do anything you want tomorrow." His eyes were aching; his heart feeling like it would stop beating if his brother walked away. "Please... Dean... I'll never ask for anything again. I feel..." tears trickled down Sam's cheek again. "You're the only thing that's the same..."

The pain that his heart clenched with this time was different from the way it had been since he'd first seen Sam and his heart ached suddenly for his brother in a way it hadn't in years. The look on his face was so painful and broken Dean couldn't ignore it no matter how much the idea of sleeping with Sam scared the crap out of him. There were so many things that could happen, he could wake up and Sam might be gone and Dean just wasn't certain he could handle that. In fact, he worried that letting Sam in at all was just going to open himself up to be hurt once more.

Sighing softly Dean reached out and circled his fingers around Sam's wrist. Without a word he turned and dragged him out of the room and down the hall to his own bedroom, knowing the king sized bed there would be much more comfortable for their adult frames. He couldn't get himself to speak, instead dropped Sam's wrist and turned to pull his shirt off, hesitating for a moment before pushing down his jeans and climbing into the bed. Dean was certain his movements had to look rushed and jerky but by this point he could hardly bring himself to care.

Sniffing quietly, Sam tugged his jacket off, pulled his shirt up over his head and shimmied out of his jeans. Wiping at his face one last time Sam crept forward and slipped under the covers. He was shivering, too much emotion and not enough sleep or food. Wriggling closer to Dean's back, curling his hands up in front of him he got close enough to feel the heat from his brother's skin without touching him. As much as he wanted to reach out, desperately wanted Dean to just pull him close, Sam didn't want Dean to push him away again. "N-night," he murmured softly.

Dean turned his head into his pillow and groaned quietly. It wasn't likely he was going to get much sleep with his brother there behind him, close enough that Dean could register his being, knew that one shift backward would likely bring their bodies together. "Night," he whispered and clenched his eyes shut, trying to clear the emotions wracking through him on overtime.

-=-=-=-

When Dean woke the sun was casting a strip across his face, causing him to scrunch up and roll away from it. Warm arms were wrapped around him and Dean found himself suddenly resting against the wide expanse of a broad chest, curved muscles sliding easily under his palms. Dean's eyes fluttered open, heart skipping a beat as he looked up and locked onto Sam's hazel eyes gazing down at him. The night before flashed through his mind, another addition to the complexity that was their lives and Dean swallowed thickly. His body felt relaxed even as his blood quickened and Dean felt oddly well rested, as if Sam's presence alone had calmed his mind.

Clearing his throat Dean broke away from his brother's arms with a roll and dropped his legs off the side of the bed. The clock said it was half past eleven and Dean cringed, never liking when he slept the good majority of the day away. Especially when it was his day off and Eliza and Ian had suggested they may be stopping by. "Morning," he said, voice rough with sleep, shoulders rolling. "Sleep well?"

"I didn't do that..." Sam rolled over onto his side and watched Dean's back, fingers twitching on the quilt. He desperately wanted to reach out for him.

Eyebrows lifting slightly Dean glanced at Sam as he pushed up off the bed and headed for his closet, arms stretching high above his head. "Didn't do what? Sleep well?" He asked through a mumble, pulling his closet open to sort through, freeing a short sleeved gray shirt from the hanger and tugging it on.

"You... you were on me when I woke up." He watched Dean move around the room. He was so much more built now than he'd been when they were growing up. The muscles across his brother's back rippled as he stretched then pulled the shirt down over his head.

"Okay... I didn't accuse you of trying to sleep grope me or something," Dean rolled his eyes slightly. He was trying to put forth a front, trying to give off an air of nonchalance, but it was draining him already. Sighing, Dean pulled his jeans from the closet and stepped easily into the tight denim. 'You want breakfast or um... lunch I guess." Dean glanced over at him once more, eyes temporarily held by the way his chest stood out in contrast to his white sheets.

Sam watching the way that the denim slid over his brother's ass, clung to his thighs; blinking, Sam looked away and ran a hand through his hair. "I'd like that, can I shower?" Sam slipped out of the bed and padded toward the door in his boxers, unsure where he'd left his backpack the night before.

"Yeah, I'll have to show you how to-" Dean cut off as he trailed Sam out of the room, eyes landing on the wide eyed forms of Eliza and Ian. "God Damnit why don't you two _knock_ and why did I tell you where the spare key is?"

Eliza's smile was barely there and she looked between Dean and Sam, eying his boxer clad form. "Sorry Dean... didn't realize you had company... hi. I'm Eliza, this is my fiancé Ian. And you... are Sam." Her smile widened slightly and she elbowed Ian until the man also smiled.

Taking a deep breath Sam stepped forward and slipped just inside the bathroom door, "nice to meet you." He smiled warily and glanced back at Dean, "show me how to what?" He glanced over his shoulder into the bathroom trying to understand what was so complicated.

"The shower," Dean muttered and threw a sharp glance at his friends before sliding into the bathroom past Sam and jiggling the knob. "It's... touchy. Never wanted to work right. So you just... kind of have to shake it a little. Towels are in here. I'll make sure these two don't try to catch you naked or something," Dean's lips twitched into a smile.

"How dare you suggest we'd do something so crass Dean," Eliza hollered from down the hall.

Chuckling softly Dean turned. His foot caught on the rug beside the tub and he slipped, stumbling forward slightly, hand slapping down hard on Sam's chest. His eyes widened and he looked up, blinking slowly. "S-sorry." He stammered, distinctly aware of the flesh burning into him.

Fingers covering his brother's almost instantly Sam smiled. "S'okay, I... like you touching me." The heat of Dean's palm felt good, familiar and Sam's breath moved a little faster in and out of his lungs. When Dean still hadn't moved in a few more moments Sam took his hand away, "your friends..."

"Right," Dean nodded and slid back, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He stared at Sam for a moment longer before brushing past him and heading out of the room. Dean didn't stop walking until he was in the kitchen, ignoring his friends leaning against the wall side by side and exchanging concerned looks. The bathroom door closed and Dean sighed, "don't start. Please. I really don't need a lecture."

"We weren't going to lecture," Eliza insisted, stepping into the kitchen and watching Ian help himself to a soda in the fridge. "Well... maybe a little but... what's he doing here? I thought he was long gone?"

"So did I," Dean started up the coffee pot and shuffled around for something to make for Sam and him to eat. "Then he was here on my doorstep when I showed up last night. And... he remembers..."

Shocked silence followed his deceleration and Dean's shoulders tensed even more as he glanced at them. Finally Ian blew out a long puff of oxygen and shook his head, coming up to Dean's side and wrapping an arm over his shoulder, "shit man. So what does he want? Did he tell you why he chose to forget?"

"Well no... he doesn't remember all that," Dean sighed and leaned into him, oddly comforted by his presence. For awhile Dean had thought things might be awkward after the blow job a few days ago but it wasn't. In fact they simply seemed to be closer than ever and Dean _finally_ felt like he had someone to share the complication known as his life with. "I think he just remembers that we were... you know... more."

Eliza walked to his other side and laid her head on his shoulder, hand rest on his chest. "And so you guys..."

"Nothing happened," Dean insisted, barking out a surprised laugh. "You two don't honestly think I'm that stupid are you? I... as much as I want to that's not a risk I can take. For all I know he just needs to sort this out than he'll be going back to Jess. How can I open myself up to go through that again?"

Ian's hand slid up to sooth the back of Dean's neck and he nodded slowly, "it's completely understandable to feel that way."

"The real kicker is... I love him so much still. And last night... god I slept better than I have in years. And I can't even tell you how many times I just wanted to step forward and crush my lips to his," Dean laughed humourlessly, wrapping his arm around Eliza and Ian's waists. Before them Dean never would have considered himself a touchy feely type of guy but it was impossible not to be when two people just forced themselves on you.

"Well, he's your brother; it's bound to always feel that way even without the more right? I'm sure he still loves you very much," Eliza mused softly.

Clearing his throat Sam stepped into the room, jealousy nipping at his heart as his eyes trailed over the three friends. "Am... I... should I go out for a while?" He pushed his damp hair back off his forehead and smiled shyly, tugging his t-shirt away from his slightly damp chest. His eyes trailed down Ian's shoulder and across his broad chest before settling on the floor in front of him.

"No, stay," Eliza smiled as she stepped back from Dean, tugging Ian with her. "We should get going anyway. Gonna do the registry today. Dean you're free for the tux fitting later yeah? The appointment is at four," she grinned at him, leaning into Ian's side.

"Of course," he nodded, smiling at her before turning back to the coffee and reaching up for a mug.

"It was nice to meet you Sam," Eliza turned back to him and smiled, eyes soft with a slight sympathy. "I hope we'll get to see you again. Get to know you some. You can tell us all about your brother and how he used to be when you two were growing up."

"'Liza," Ian muttered, knocking his hip into her side.

Laughing Eliza shook her head, "Ian thinks I'm too nosy but Dean's a walking enigma. We need some 411 to prove he really is as fascinating as we think he is."

Sam looked up and met Eliza's dark eyes, "Dean's the best person I ever knew." Pausing for a few moments, his lips twitched into a smile and he took a deep breath. "It'd be nice to see you again, both of you." Sam glanced at Ian quickly and stepped back to let them pass.

Eliza was talking quietly to Ian as they headed out of the house and Dean listened until the front door shut firmly behind them. He stirred a spoonful of sugar into his mug of coffee slowly for awhile before looking back at Sam. "You want some coffee or something?"

Sam's eyebrows drew together, "yes... please. Dean?" He sat down at the kitchen table and wrung his hands nervously.

Dean grabbed an extra mug and poured Sam's coffee, fixing it up automatically the way Sam had started taking it during their six months of happiness - as he referred to it. It wasn't until after he'd set it in front of Sam that he realized what he'd done and he coughed slightly and shrugged, "uh yeah? Yes? What?" He slid back to the counter, feeling just about as nervous as Sam looked.

"Do they know?" He wrapped his fingers around the mug pulling it close.

Reaching out Dean grabbed his coffee and stalled for time by taking a slow sip. Finally he nodded, hands curling around the mug. "Yeah. They uh... sort of learned the whole story after last time we talked," he sighed softly and lifted a hand to scratch at his brow. "Sorry, I'm sure that's not really something you want people knowing?"

Shrugging slightly Sam looked up at Dean's eyes. "You don't owe me anything... you tell who you want." He looked back down at his mug again and thought for a few moments. "You know, when this started. When I started to remember things I guess I thought that coming back here would fix things. Make them better. Maybe... I thought you might have remembered things differently. Hell, I don't even know if you ever for..." Sam's voice trailed away. Dean was supposed to forget. Why would he want Dean to forget him? Eyes widening Sam pushed back from the table and stood, "I'm gonna, I should get..." he gestured down the hall and turned quickly, heading to the guestroom.

Blinking slowly at the place his brother had just been Dean frowned and considered his words. Deciding they made little to no sense he pushed away from the counter and headed down the hall, leaning against the door frame of the guest room. "Sam? What were you about to say? Something about me forgetting? Because I never... forgot anything," he rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye and rocked against the hard wood.

Sam was leaning against the other side of the door. Lifting his hand he pressed it against the hardwood, the scent of the stain wafting into his nose. Why? What reason could there be for him to want his brother to forget him? Sam had fewer answers now that he was with Dean and began to wonder if he'd made a mistake. Maybe Jess was right, maybe he should have just stayed in Palo Alto until he worked some things out. "You were supposed to forget me..." he whispered.

"Why would I want to do that?" Dean asked in slight surprise. "I mean... the demigod offered but I chose not to. Even after I saw you at school and knew you didn't remember I..." Dean trailed off, trying not to think about how bad it had been, waking up in that hospital alone.

"Because you would be happier. Because I couldn't save you." Sam slid down the door. "You were dying," he gasped in a lung full of air and it escaped back out as a sob. "You were dying and he said he would save you." The blond man's face flashed in Sam's mind again. Throat tight from crying, chest aching, Sam coughed and leaned his head back hard against the door.

"What?" Dean repeated slowly and blinked under the new weight of information. All these years he'd thought Sam had _chosen_ to forget him but now... "You mean... that was part of the deal? He healed me and you had to forget?" Of course that made a lot of sense and Dean mentally kicked himself for never having thought it before. "Oh god..." he groaned and let his head fall into the door sharply. "Of course. He was trying to hurt us for some reason."

"I didn't w..want to hunt anymore... didn't want you to be hurt. You were dying, Dean." Sam sucked in a breath and tried to quell the tidal wave of emotion. "He said ... we couldn't be together -but said you'd forget. I... he..." Sam sobbed and hiccoughed in another breath. "He was gonna... he was gonna make you a life that would make you happy." He let himself fall down on to the floor, hands pressed flat against the hardwood. "I'm so sorry..." Sam whispered, "so sorry."

Dean's heart tightened painfully and he reached out, curling his fingers along the door handle and hesitating. "You saved me," he whispered, not surprised at the fresh wave of tears the pricked along his eyes. "It was that stupid asshole... you should have known he wouldn't..." Dean blew out a breath and shook his head, releasing the doorknob and dropping his hand to his side. "God if I could I'd kill the bastard again," he growled quietly, angry flaring up in him.

"M'sorry," Sam breathed against the wood floor. "I'm sorry," Sam yelled. He tried to push up off the floor but his hands were shaking so badly he fell back down twice. The sudden silence after his outburst was deafening and he paused for a few moments before scrambling up onto the bed and burying his face in the pillow. Now, he understood and he knew, like he suddenly knew everything else - that this would be something Dean could never forgive.

Sighing softly Dean finally caved and grabbed the doorknob once more, pushing the door open and stepping inside. He stared at Sam on the bed for a long moment before slowly walking over to him. Dropping carefully down onto the edge, Dean hesitated once more before reaching out and laying a hand on his shoulder. "You... couldn't have known... that he wouldn't take my memories..." Dean pursed his lips, trying to make sense of the new information given to him. "God all these years I thought you just didn't want me... that I wasn't enough..." he shook his head roughly, hand pulling back as he folded into himself.

"You didn't want, what I wanted..." Sam whispered. His body was drained, his mind broken, his heart aching. "I wanted to stop hunting, a home... you didn't want that... with me. And now..." He closed his eyes against the sharp cut of new pain. "Those people - you touch them, you kiss him - in front of all those people - you wouldn't touch me..." Sam took in a shudder of a breath. "I gave you... what you wanted... a different life. And I asked for... what I wanted if I couldn't have you." Sam rubbed his face against the pillow, "I can make this right, I can fix everything." Sam's voice was quiet, barely above the sound of their breath.

Staring down at his brother Dean's chest ached painfully and his shoulders shook. "I didn't know you wanted... you said you were okay with hunting and I thought..." Dean shook his head and laid his palm against lips, sighing once more. "I was trying. It took time to learn how to touch and... I was _trying_ ," Dean insisted, not voicing that he feared it was too late to fix anything between them. They would never be like they once were.

Sam twisted on the bed, arm wrapping around Dean's waist so he could pull himself up. "Kiss me..." Sam's lips were burning with the heat from Dean's so close to his. "Kiss me... like you kissed him... show me..." Sam's heart was fit to stop any second, his blood grinding to a slow crawl in his veins. "I can change... please... I didn't know... you don't have to be like that with me..." Just a hair's breadth away, a twitch, a tiny gesture and he'd be kissing his brother. But, _God_ this had to come from Dean.

Swaying forward Dean's eyes flickered between Sam's and his lips, so close he could almost _feel_ the warmth and heat. Then his mind supplied a perfect image of Sam with Jess, of the happy little life Sam had built for himself, and he pushed back, shaking his head. Standing, Dean backed up and swallowed once, twice, to control the urge to simply climb on the bed and pull him close. "Sorry... I... I can't. There's... it's just... I can't..." he shook his head and spun on his heels, nearly running out of the room to the safety of the kitchen where he'd be out of the way of temptation.

Dragging his hands down his face Sam let his legs drop down over the edge of the bed and stood. Picking up his backpack he shoved his jacket into the main compartment and headed out to the front door. Stepping into his boots Sam threw his bags up over his shoulder. "Dean?" He waited to see if his brother would answer.

Dean had just caught a glimpse of Sam walking past the hallway and he slowly moved out of the kitchen, leaning against the wall when his knees dipped slightly. Seeing his brother, completely ready to go, caused his stomach to churn unpleasantly. He'd expected Sam would go; only he thought they would have more time, for what he wasn't sure. "So... you're leaving," he stated obviously, arms folding protectively across his chest.

"I'm... I'm..." Sam's bottom lip trembled slightly and he bit down on it for a few moments. "I'm gonna go back home. Gotta talk to Jess about... some things..." He stepped forward, and then stepped back again. "I'm... sorry that I just..." Sam's hand ran through his hair and he turned, fingers curling around the door knob. "There's really nothing I can say is there?" He stared down at his hand.

Closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see Sam leave, he shook his head and gasped a quiet, "no." He was really starting to hate all the times he'd have to let go of Sam, feeling like each time was for sure to be the absolute last time.

Turning the door handle Sam pulled the door open, "I love you." He stepped out into the bright sunlight, closed the door behind him and started walking. He had no idea which way to go, but it didn't really matter. Sam didn't belong at either end of his journey.

As he listened to the door swing shut Dean sank down along the wall, a harsh sob tearing from his chest. That familiar pain and sting coursed through him so strongly he was sure this time he really was going to fall apart for good. But somehow he knew he'd have to keep going; at this point there really was no other choice.


	6. Chapter 6

Somehow Dean managed to make it to his tux fitting with Eliza and Ian that afternoon. Of course the moment they saw him they knew something was wrong and in less than ten minutes Dean was once more in tears. He shakily explained what had happened, how hopeless he felt, how he just _knew_ this was it. Before he'd always been able to fool himself that by some magic miracle they'd get their happily ever after but that was no longer an option. Sam was _gone_ and Dean just had to deal with that. Parts of him wanted to just pack up his things and take off, start over again once more.

But Eliza and Ian seemed to sense that he was thinking just that. Whether they did or not, one or both of them made themselves a permanent fixture in Dean's life for the following few days. They even stuck around when Claudia and Nathan came over for their nightly stays as they usually did when Shelia worked overnight. Though Dean never said it aloud he was immensely glad for their support and he was fairly certain they knew without being told. It was the only thing that seemed to keep him sane in the week following Sam's departure.

If Dean didn't love his life so much in New Orleans then chances were he would have left. But he'd built himself a home - almost literally - and he had friends that cared for him. It was never something Dean had thought he wanted but now that he had the real choice to stay or go, Dean found he couldn't break those ties. He thought about Sam constantly but he did his best to keep those thoughts hidden. It didn't always work, Eliza and Ian often sent him sympathetic and knowing gazes but they never pressured him to speak on the subject.

Dean allowed Eliza to drag him into the wedding plans whenever she wanted. He trailed along for cake tastings and dress searching, gradually relaxing back into normality as the weeks shifted together. Part of him had already accepted that he was going to miss Sam for the rest of his life, and always wonder if things really would have been better if he'd given in and kissed Sam like he so desperately wanted too, but if there was one thing his life taught him it was not to dwell on the what if's. Things just happened and you dealt with them, moved on, learned to live life once more because not everything was heartache and pain.

Most of the time, Dean even felt he believed that. At least he kept himself from doing something juvenile like throwing Sam's picture out. And he only pulled Sam's old duffel bag out twice, which seemed like a great feat of strength on his part.

-=-=-=-

Sam could never understand how he managed to get back to Palo Alto. He knew that he walked for a long time, there were taxis. It took hours for him to get a flight at the airport but there was nowhere left for Sam to be that wasn't _on the way_ to somewhere. He sat until his back ached and his neck was killing him and then he walked around the airport aimlessly until he finally heard his flight called.

He sent Jess a text message as soon as he had cleared security and she was waiting for him when he came through the sliding doors in the arrivals wing back in San Francisco airport. They drove the few miles back to Palo Alto in silence, both knowing there was far too much talking to come. There were no words in the apartment, which suddenly didn't feel like Sam's home. Without any discussion Sam settled into the guest room. A _guest_. He was a guest everywhere, at home nowhere. Sam fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. The room smelled strange, not like Dean's home, not like the home that he and Jess had created. It was like standing on the coffee table in the living room to change a light bulb on the ceiling and looking around. Same room, but how different everything looks from two feet higher.

In the morning Sam met Jess in the kitchen. She made a coffee, fixing it the way he liked it and slid it across the table to him then set down. Another life changing conversation through the steam of morning coffee, across something as mundane as a kitchen table.

"I'm sorry I left the way I did," Sam felt meek, unimportant, like he didn't really matter too much anywhere.

"It's okay," Jess looked down at the brown liquid still swirling in her cup. "I know, well," she laughed softly, "I was going to say I know things were hard for you but I really don't do I Sam?"

Sam stared across the table at her for a few moments. "There are parts of this I'll never be able to explain, well, not in a way you'd believe anyway. I... my memory was gone. There were things I'd... things I'd given up I guess, maybe things I didn't want to remember. So... when we met - when you and I met." Sam shook his head, scratching at his forehead as he tried to figure out what to say. "When you and I met... I wasn't right. And now... I need to go." It was blunt, and maybe it was even cruel but Sam had no more stomach for maybes or possibilities that didn't really exist.

Jess sighed, "well, I didn't think you'd moved into the guest bedroom because you liked the view better." She shifted on her chair, the legs squawking against the tile floor as she pulled it closer to the table. "You... gonna still go to law school? You don't have to move out until you have somewhere else to go."

Looking up Sam read the expression on her face. There were no expectations there, somehow, maybe Jess knew more than he did. Maybe the emptiness he hadn't noticed had been written on him somewhere for her to read. She's known he wouldn't be her _forever_. "I'll leave tomorrow, you can have everything. I'll take the laptop and enough money to get me an apartment somewhere." He couldn't look at her anymore. Sam felt like he was leaving a trail of people behind him with nothing but pity and disappointment on the faces. "Will you tell Zach, Madison... that I..."

Sipping her coffee slowly Jess nodded, set her mug back on the table and crossed her arms. One small hand, nails manicured, pink and pale, rubbed up and down her arm. "I'll tell them you had to leave. You have their phone numbers Sam - I’m not cleaning up for you."

He deserved that. He knew it. Pushing his chair back from the table Sam stepped closer, hand curling around the side of Jess's head. She leaned in to his touch briefly then smiled up at him, eyes wide and glassy. "I don't suppose there's any point in asking you to keep in touch."

Sam's hand slid forward, fingers trailed across her skin. "I'll let you know where I am." Turning, he walked back down to the master bedroom and pulled out his most comfortable clothes, the only suit he had he left hanging in the back of the closet. He took his hiking gear and the tiny box of photos he had, all that was left from his family. It was a strange feeling to pack everything away knowing he had nowhere to go, and no one to go toward anymore.

Once more Sam found himself back in an airport. This time, surrounded by three bags. Everything he owned now sitting on the ground around him. He'd been watching the departures trudge across the screen for ages before he realized there was only one place left for him. At three ten Sam purchased a plane ticket back to New Orleans and was on a flight four hours later.

-=-=-=-

New Orleans smelled different. It felt warmer - even though it wasn't. It was different. It took Sam a week to find a place to live. It was small, a walk up in an old building within walking distance of the French quarter. One room, a bed and a desk. It was all Sam really needed. In another week he'd managed to get a job doing legal research for a small firm that did primarily pro-bono work. They survived on donations to a trust fund that had been set up to provide legal intervention for people who'd been wrongfully convicted. It was consuming, it was work Sam could do from his lap top and at the many libraries in New Orleans. Soon enough, Sam was able to sleep through the night - rather than waking up from all kinds of vivid dreams. It seemed the memories had shaken up and all settled back to where they belonged.

Yes. Sam had been _wanting_ more from Dean. He'd wanted someone to hold his hand, walk down the street with him; he'd wanted what he saw Dean now had with his new friends. You can't un-know things. That was the problem. So - Sam didn't know how to go forward. He wanted Dean with all his heart, but he wanted the Dean he saw now. He wanted to be with the man who had built himself a home, played with kids in the yard, was fiercely loyal to his friends, touched... and he didn't think that Dean wanted... what was left of Sam.

Pulling on his jacket Sam headed out and started a long hike over to the bar the Dean worked at. He remembered that Dean didn't work there on Monday nights; it was just Eliza and Ian. It took him over two hours to walk there. Sam walked a lot. The sun was setting as he pushed the door to the club open. Leaning against the front wall until his eyes adjusted to the darkness in the club Sam's eyes roamed over the crowd. Ian was at the back bar, working with a woman that Sam didn't recognize. After a few deep breaths he headed back there and settled on a stool at the far end waiting to see if Ian would recognize him.

"Hey what can I- oh." Ian turned, hand extending to set a small wooden coaster in front of him. Ian's gaze shot sharply in the direction of his fiancé before he set the coaster down and pushed it toward him. "Sam. Uh... Dean's not here," he said with a half shrug and a slightly friendly smile.

"I know, that's why I came tonight. He doesn't want to see me." Sam fiddled with the coaster, turning it around on the bar as though it might suddenly give him some answers if he could just get it the right way up. "I... was wondering," he stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a business card and held it out to Ian, "if Dean tells you he's going to leave, or you think he might ever want to see me. Would you give him this?" Sam's stomach was tied in knots, just sitting there and knowing that Dean might _never_ want to see him again. "If you could just... give him the chance to contact me before he... leaves..." When Ian didn't take the card right away Sam put it on the bar. "I live here now, moved here," he glanced up at Ian's face, "by myself," he added.

Staring at the card for a moment Ian reached out and slid it to the edge of the bar top, pinching it between his fingers and sliding it into his pocket. "He's not gonna leave," Ian informed him, dipping down to get a beer and twisting the cap off, sliding it over to Sam. "For awhile there we thought he might but... he's happy here. That house is in his name you know? Plus there's Claudia and Nathan, Eliza and I... and... honestly I think he wants to know that you'll be able to find him if you ever wanted to again." Ian shrugged and his smile softened along the edges. "You know Sam... he thinks you left him for good... that you're not interested in pursuing... anything."

Sam could feel the burn of sadness in his throat. "He... I asked him..." _God_ he begged Dean to kiss him and Dean wouldn’t, couldn't... "He didn't want me... there... with him." His voice was soft, fingers curled around the cool bottle as his thumb wiped back and forth through the condensation. Looking up, he was surprised at the gentleness of Ian's expression. "That's what he said..."

"I don't think it's a matter of not wanting you there. Because I'm pretty damn sure that's the only thing he wants," Ian wiped absently along the bar top with his rag. "I think he's scared. Actually I know he is. I've known Dean for a few years now and if there's one thing I've learned, it's how scared your brother gets about making connections with people. It's like he thinks everyone is already halfway toward leaving." Ian leaned forward slightly and smiled brighter. "You want some advice Sam?"

"Sure," Sam shrugged and took a swig of beer, "it's not like I know what the hell to do." He gave Ian the best smile he could manage.

Ian nodded and drummed his fingers along the bar top. "You need to woo him. Dean. Which, okay I'll admit, using the word _woo_ in reference to Dean is kind of weird," Ian chuckled and shook his head. "But see, if you just go there and try and make it work, it won't. You need to prove to him that you're here for good. And if you want to be with him, you've got to see him like... a potential boyfriend. How would you get someone to date you? You _know_ Dean, even if he's changed. You more than anyone else know how much he's worth fighting for."

"You think... he'll ever want that... me... like that again?" Sam looked back down at his beer bottle. "I'm not the same person anymore. He's not either... it's funny..." Sam blinked, gaze going distant for a few moments. "He's more... now..." Sam swallowed and tried again, "I think I love who he is more now, than who he was before. But... I don't know if I believe he'll ever want me back. I know what you think you see - but I can't take him... pushing me away again." Sam's eyes were watery when he looked up at Ian.

"All you can do is try," Ian shrugged as he pushed back to survey the bar before looking at Sam once more. "All I know is... he says he loves you... and hearing him talk about you is like listening to a person sing praises. He misses you and he always will." Ian reached out to pat Sam's hand. "There are times in your life Sam where you have two options and you just have to pick one. You can play it safe and never know what you two could have been or... you can go for it," Ian smiled and pulled back as if it were that easy.

Sam nodded, smiled and looked out across the bar for a few moments. He downed the rest of his beer, pulled a ten out of his wallet and dropped it on the bar. "Don't tell him I was here... and," he stood and took a step back, "thanks Ian... for not being... an asshole. I know I deserved it." Sam held his hand up in a half wave and headed out of the club.

Using the map feature on his phone he managed to get to Dean's house in less than forty minutes. It was past ten but he figured his brother was still up. There was warm light in the front window. The walk up to the front of the house was the longest walk Sam had made that evening. He could see his hand shaking as he reached out for the doorbell but he pushed it and he waited.

Dean was knee deep in a pile of invitations he'd somehow gotten talked into addressing when Eliza learned that he had fairly nice handwriting when he put some effort into. His hand ached so he welcomed the temporary distraction though he had no idea who could be coming to see him at ten o'clock on a Monday night. Padding over to the door Dean scratched at his shoulder and yawned before reaching out and turning the lock, pulling the door open. His smile faltered for a moment as he stared at Sam with wide eyes. "You're... here..." he said quietly; mind flaring at the image of his brother that he truthfully had never thought he'd see again.

"I... live here now." Sam's voice shook a little and he smiled. Dean looked good, relaxed, tanned. Good. "I broke up with Jess and moved here. I live down... by the French Quarter. Got a pretty small place..." he scratched the side of his nose, "a job. I work for a small law firm..." his voice trailed off eyes still locked with his brother's.

It seemed like all Dean could do was blink at him in surprise, still trying to believe that Sam was even here. "Um... okay..." he said slowly and frowned, leaning against the door and rubbing at the back of his neck.”Why?" He asked, staring at Sam with continued disbelief.

"Because I want you back. I know you're different and I'm different but I want another chance." Sam looked down at his feet for a minute, winding a strand of hair around his finger. "That guy tricked me... whatever it was. I loved you then..." He looked back up at Dean, "I love you now. I wanted to be with you, yeah, I wanted things to be different for us but I never got a chance to say it... you were dying and I made a stupid mistake to save your life."

Sam took a step forward and leaned in quickly before Dean could pull away and kissed him on the cheek. "There's no one else that I want to be with, and I'll wait, as long as it takes. And... if you never want that... that's okay, I'll still wait." Sam stepped back and smiled nervously. "That's... that's all I wanted to say."

Out of his control Dean raised his hand and let his fingers rest over the place on his cheek Sam's lips had temporarily been. He stared at Sam wearily, afraid to believe that the words could be true, waiting for Sam to turn and run, for all the pain to return. "Okay..." he said slowly and nodded, glancing around into the darkness behind Sam. "I... god Sam it's not going to be easy," he admittedly quietly, frown deep on his face. "I can't be hurt any more. I can't take it. I don't know if I'm even worth that love anymore..." Dean shrugged and dropped his hand to his side.

"Oooh, you are _so_ worth it." Sam smiled warmly and cleared his throat, emotion almost choking him. "Listen," he took another step back, "I'm gonna go home now, I've got a long walk." Laughing softly, Sam turned and walked down a couple of steps before turning back. "I left my number with Ian at the club, in case you want to see me before Wednesday."

Several thoughts crashed through Dean's mind and tumbled out before he could control, "you want me to call a cab? Wait you saw Ian?" He paused for a moment and stepped further out the front door. "What happens on Wednesday?" Dean wondered if he sounded as out of his element as he felt at the moment.

"No thanks, I'll walk. Oh... Wednesday, I'm gonna come back and tell you again. Just to make sure you believe me." He walked down the last few steps and turned around, "I'm gonna come back on Saturday too." Smiling Sam held his hand up to wave good-bye. "Maybe one day, you'll invite me in." He shrugged and stared at Dean, hoping his brother could see everything that he felt. Pressing his hand to his chest right above his heart he turned and walked down the path, still smiling as he opened the gate, closed it behind him, and headed off up the street.

Dean watched his brother go until Sam completely disappeared into the darkness, and longer, until he realized he was standing with his door open and letting bugs in. Stepping back inside Dean slowly closed the door and let his forehead rest against the wood. It took a good half hour until he could go back to the invitations but when he did he only half acknowledged the odd swirling in his chest.

-=-=-=-

Tuesday morning Dean watched Claudia and Nathan and he appreciated the chance for a distraction since his mind had been reeling with Sam's surprise appearance the night before. He had some time to think about it but that didn't stop the fear from nagging at his senses. It didn't seem possible that Sam was going to come back and he forced himself to just _not_ think about it.

When he got to work he cornered Ian the first moment he could, quickly explaining the visit and asking about the card. Ian simply shrugged and said Sam stopped by looking for him, left his card just in case. Dean had a feeling there was more to it, judging from the knowing glint in Ian's eyes, but he didn't press the subject. Truthfully Dean wasn't certain he wanted to know what the two might have discussed. That didn't stop his mind from supplying possibilities as he went about his shift, easily allowed the time to think by the not so busy Tuesday night crowd.

By the time he arrived home, wheeled his bike into the garage and stumbled inside the lack of sleep from the night before had caught up to him. And even though he was nervous about the prospect of Sam not showing up the next day - and how that might affect him - he fell into sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Dean was dreaming something pleasant though he had no idea what it was about. Only that there was a smile on his face even when he registered the doorbell that had woken him. Rubbing at his eyes Dean rolled off the mattress, half stumbling down the hall and turning the lock on the door. Yawning loudly Dean pulled the door open and stopped, watery eyes fluttering as they fixed on the sight of his brother there. He was suddenly distinctly aware of the fact that he had just opened the door in his boxers and nothing else. "Uh... hi." He nodded, slightly surprised smile tilting his lips up.

Sam's breath stuck somehow halfway in and halfway out of his lungs when he saw Dean standing there in nothing but boxers. Smiling softly Sam tore his eyes away from Dean's chest and held out a Styrofoam coffee cup. "It's Wednesday. I didn't want you to worry all day that I wouldn't show up. Coffee." He held the cup a little closer and waited for Dean to take it.

"I... okay," Dean nodded slowly and reached out for the cup, heart skipping a beat as his fingers brushed along Sam's. "Um... I just woke up," he said by way of explanation and glanced over his shoulder. "You... you wanna come in? Somehow giving my neighbour’s this view just doesn't seem like the smartest idea," Dean's smile grew a little and he shrugged, bringing the cup forward to sip from slowly.

"Okay," Sam stepped forward slowly, "but I'm still gonna come back on Saturday. So..." He shrugged a shoulder and grinned, tucking his hair behind his ear then slipping his hands in his pockets.

"I babysit on Saturday," Dean pointed out, stepping further back into the hall so Sam could come in enough to tug his shoes off.

As soon as he managed to get his boots off Sam stood, hair flopped down over his eyes again. "That's okay; I'll bring ice cream instead of coffee." He pressed his lips together and slipped past Dean sideways, careful not to touch him. "Living room?"

"Yeah, living room," Dean nodded and led the way, stopping short inside the room he looked around and chuckled quietly. "I uh... think I'll go put some clothes on," he nodded and moved forward to set his coffee in the table. "You want to toast or a donut or um... pop tart?" he asked, turning toward Sam with a nervous twist of his fingers together.

Sam's eyes brightened. "You have pop tarts?"

"Yeah Claudia and I have an affinity for the brown sugar ones but Nathan likes frosted strawberry," he smiled fondly and headed out of the living room, gesturing toward the kitchen as he passed it. "Feel free to help yourself, they're in the pantry. I'm gonna take a real fast shower okay?" He called as he disappeared into his bedroom.

Peering around the corner, Sam watched Dean disappear into the bathroom and skidded across the hardwood into the kitchen. He pulled the pantry door open and pulled out the box of pop tarts, "Captain Crunch", he mumbled. Holding the pop tart package between his teeth Sam grabbed the cereal box and a jar of honey and closed the door with his hip. Putting the cereal on the counter he opened and closed cupboard doors until he found a bowl, got some milk from the fridge and fixed himself a bowl of Captain Crunch. He drizzled about three teaspoons of honey over the cereal and bit the pop tart bag open while he was watching the honey sink down into the milk. The pop tart tasted just like he remembered from when he was a kid, except Dean always used to get him the ones that had the obnoxiously coloured sprinkles on them. Plunking himself down at the table Sam munched away on the pop tart while his cereal softened.

Dean hurried through his shower, oddly excited by the prospect of Sam waiting for him. More than anything Dean wanted to believe that this was _something_ but opening himself up to that was a terrifying thought. He dressed a lot slower than he showered and dragged his palm across the mirror to stare at his reflection. "Get a hold of yourself Dean," he grumbled to his image and shook his head before turning and pulling the door open.

Walking down the hall he reclaimed his coffee from the living room before walking slowly into the kitchen. Leaning against the door frame he watched his brother silently for a few moments, lip quirking up as he spotted the honey beside his bowl. "You still do that huh?" He asked quietly, stepping into the kitchen to grab a packet of pop tarts for himself.

Scooping up the last of the milk with his spoon Sam smiled and slid the spoon past his lips. "Makes the milk taste really good." Dropping the spoon back into the bowl Sam picked up his coffee, "you look great, always like the way you look in just a t-shirt and jeans." He could feel his cheeks coloring, but hell, what did he have to lose when it came right down to it. Dean had always been gorgeous.

"Thanks..." Dean said quietly and pulled the chair back, dropping into it and pulling the pop tart package open. "You look good too," Dean smiled and swirled the coffee in the cup. "Grown up suits you. I like your hair that length," instinctively Dean reached out and tucked a loose strand behind Sam's ear, fingers hesitating along his jaw before pulling back and looking away, heart thudding rapidly in his chest.

"I bought a plant." Sam took a sip of coffee, skin humming from Dean's touch.

Dean looked up from his coffee, eyebrow curving up. "You bought a... plant?" He repeated slowly, lips twitching into another smile. "What kind of plant?"

"A jade plant, it's supposed to be lucky if you can keep it alive." Sam put his coffee back down on the table, dying to reach out for Dean's hand. "I've never had my own plant." He smiled and pressed his hands flat on the table, thoughtful. "Do you have plans for today?"

For a long minute Dean simply stared him, wondering if he'd ever get over the shock of seeing Sam there, of this whole thing. Finally he shook his head, "no. I mean... I've got to mail wedding invitations but that's just a trip to the post office. You uh... have to work today? What is it you do?" He asked, bringing his coffee up to sip once more.

"Research. It's a small firm that helps get people off death row. We're in between cases at the moment, but sometimes it's around the clock though." He slid his hand closer to Dean's, tilted his head and frowned. "It's hard work... but it's worth it... to save a life, I mean." He hadn't really thought about how it sounded until he'd already said it, "they're... usually people who couldn't afford a good lawyer when they were tried."

Dean nodded and drained the rest of the coffee, setting the cup down on the table before turning it slowly beneath his fingers. "Sounds like good work. You always did like researching," he smiled softly, thinking of all the times Sam had spent hours pouring over books until Dean thought of some way to properly distract him. Clearing his throat and looking away Dean shifted in his seat and wet his lips, "so... are you trying to date me?" He half laughed with the words, though his hands twisted together with those rising nerves from before. The idea, though slightly ridiculous, seemed oddly... pleasing in his mind.

"Is that bad?" Sam smiled and looked down at the table.

Considering the question once more Dean hummed softly, drumming his fingers along the table top before shaking his head, "no. It's not bad." He scratched at his chin for a moment before glancing back at Sam. "How do I know you won't just go again?" He asked quietly, well aware of the fear laced through his words.

"I bought a plant." Sam squeezed his eyes shut and slid his hand forward until they slid over Dean's. "And... my home," he opened his eyes, "is wherever you are... whether we're together or not." The corner of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, heart feeling a litlte heavy.

Dean twisted his wrist uncertainly before flipping it around so his palm could rest against Sam's. "I'm not making the plant connection," he said quietly, eyes fixed on the place their hands touched.

"It needs me. I have to stay." Sam curled his fingers over the side of Dean's hand. That simple touch made him feel... _right_... like something, some day, might be okay.

"Okay," he nodded and stared at Sam for another long moment. He let Sam's words comfort the fear and nerves slightly. Pushing forward Dean freed his hand, hesitating for a moment before dipping down to press a soft kiss along Sam's cheek. Dean straightened mere seconds later and he turned, heading for the coffee pot to start a new pot. "So did you want to go with me today? I mean, to drop the invitations in the mail? Or did you have plans?" His hands were shaking slightly, lips tingling slightly from the touch of Sam's flesh beneath them.

"I'd really like to go with you." Sam was still smiling as he sat back in his chair. "That's not gonna take very long though... maybe I could... take you out for lunch? Or something?" His heart fluttered nervously in his chest.

"Well..." Dean glanced over at him then nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'm sure there are a few restaurants in town that you haven't had a chance to try. You uh, don't mind riding on my motorcycle do you? I don't have a car and I'm gathering you don't either," he smiled softly as his head dipped down and he turned back to the coffee. There was something oddly pleasant bubbling low in his stomach and Dean's heart fluttered in response.

"Oh." A motorcycle. _Dean_ on a motorcycle. Sam riding behind him. "God. Yes." A laugh escaped Sam's lips and he looked up, smile staying broad and warm on his face. "I mean, no I don't have a car and I'm..." he licked his lips, "suddenly remarkably glad you don't either."

A flush of color shot up Dean's body as it occurred to him exactly why Sam seemed so pleased about the idea. Clearing his throat Dean turned, slight smile pulling on his lips. "Okay that's um... good. That you don't have a car- I mean issue. With riding on my motorcycle," Dean flushed even brighter. He definitely hadn't planned on admitting just how much he like idea of Sam riding behind him, pressed up full body to him.

Blowing out a slow breath, Sam stretched his neck out to the side and pushed up from the table. He moved quietly and stood just behind Dean, reaching a long arm over his brother's shoulder to grab a glass from the cupboard. "Need water," he murmured right by Dean's ear. He might have even turned his face just a little so he could catch that scent that he loved. Stepping back Sam moved over to the sink and ran the water. "When you wanna go?" He slid the glass under the cool stream.

Heat was coursing through Dean at an unexpected speed and he curled his fingers around the counter ledge. Steadying himself. "Um soon. I just gotta get my stuff. And the invitations into a bag. You mind swinging by the tux rental place with me before lunch? Gotta do a final fitting." he rolled his shoulders in a shrug and rubbed along the back of his neck.

Sam turned his head, eyes focusing on his brother's flushed cheeks. "Tux... tuxedo fitting?" Of all the days Sam could have chosen to come over and see his brother he had picked a _very_ good one. The water was running over the top of his glass and Sam moved his hand quickly and turned the tap off, reaching over for a tea towel to dry his hands and the glass. "MMhmmm I can... we can stop there." Smiling briefly, Sam shook his head and downed the entire glass of water.

Dean glanced over at Sam and smiled, shaking his head slowly. "Okay," he nodded, pursing his lips slowly and stepped toward the door. "I'll just um... go get my things," he gestured before turning and heading swiftly into the living room to gather the invitations. He felt pretty foolish for being so skittish around his brother but it was a mixture of nerves and the almost never ending urge to _kiss_ him so Dean figured he had a right to be slightly... weird. Swallowing thickly he pulled his backpack up and slid the invitations carefully inside, zipping it closed once more and turning.

Walking swiftly down the hall he gathered up his socks and shoes, slipping easily into both and glancing around. His mind was reeling with the idea of having Sam against him still and he took a few moments to calm himself before walking back down the hall. "You'll have to hold this," Dean informed his brother as he stepped into the kitchen, holding up his backpack.

Placing his empty glass carefully in the sink Sam turned slow, eyes moving over his brother's muscular chest, down his arm to the back pack. "I can manage that," he mumbled and slipped his fingers around the strap. Swinging it round onto his back he grabbed the straps and pulled them tight then moved past Dean and down the hallway to slip into his boots. "M'ready." Tension had settled into his back, nerves, the ever-present question - would he do something wrong. Fumbling with the door knob Sam had to finally tear his eyes away from Dean's back and look down so he could work the lock. Pulling the door open he took a deep breath, nerves jangling away in his stomach.

Debating for a moment, Dean stared around the kitchen before nodding at no one and heading down the hall. He smiled briefly at Sam as he passed, stepping out on the front step and waiting for his brother to close the door before slipping the key into the lock. Glancing up his eyes widened slightly, surprised to find Sam _right there_. Wetting his lips slowly Dean stared at the place Sam's pulse beat along his neck before he withdrew his key and stepped back, gesturing to the garage. _Stupid_ he chastised himself mentally, shaking his head as he bent to unlock the garage door and lifted it up. "Ever ridden one before?" He asked over his shoulder, pushing up the bike and kicking the stand before wheeling it out to the driveway to pull the garage back down once more.

"No," Sam answered quickly, voice with only the slightest tremor. "What I gotta do?" Stepping up close beside Dean he swallowed, fingers picking nervously at the seam running down the side of his jeans.

Kicking his leg over the bike, Dean settled on the seat and slid forward slightly, glancing at Sam with a faint smile. "Just climb up and hold on," he chuckled softly and revved the engine, sliding sunglasses down from the top of his head and over his eyes.

Sucking on his bottom lip for a few moments Sam shifted the backpack then swung his leg over the back of the bike. As soon as his ass hit the seat he shimmied forward, thighs pressed against the backs of Dean's legs as he settled his feet on the foot rests. Closing his eyes against the flood of heat that battered his senses, Sam's hands faltered for a moment then snaked around his brother's waist. The low rumble of the motorcycle and the heat of Dean's body was killing Sam, draining him of almost every drop of resolve he had.

For just a moment Dean's hand drifted down to rest over Sam's pressed into his waist. His heart fluttered at an insane pace as he shifted against Sam's heat, fingers drifting along the soft skin of Sam's hand. Glancing to the side he caught Sheila's gaze, the woman hesitating halfway down her driveway with a bag of trash in her hand. A slow smile curved her lips up and Dean looked away before he could return the grin, shaking his head softly before pushing them forward and turning swiftly out of the driveway.

There was something oddly _normal_ about spending the morning with Sam. Even with the constant rush of nerves and anxiety through his veins, Dean found himself comforted by just the presence of his brother. They stopped by the post office first and Sam waited out with the bike while Dean headed inside to mail off the invitations, thinking that Eliza _really_ owed him for all the work he'd put into the wedding preparations. When he stepped back out of the post office, backpack hanging from his fingers, he drew up short, eyes widening slightly as he took in Sam leaning so casually against his bike. His head was tilted up toward the sky, hands curved back into the seat, and Dean was _so_ tempted to step forward and run his tongue up the line of Sam's neck just to taste that flesh once more. Clearing his throat Dean stepped forward and reached out, brushing along Sam's hipbone for just a moment before stepping back. "Ready to go?" He asked, voice slightly deeper than usual. "Tux place shouldn't take too long."

Sam spent most of the morning answering with nods, blank stares and smiles. He was lucky, he figured, that he smile seemed to communicate a lot to Dean. The sun was warm, Sam was finally starting to relax, he was spending time with his brother and for the first time in a _very_ long time Sam felt like he was where he should be. Each time Dean touched him Sam could feel his body react, a shudder here, tingles, sometimes his breath would catch in his chest and by the time they made it to the Tux place Sam felt like he was doped up on _Dean_. There was no way that Dean could persuade Sam to stay outside with the bike, although he did offer to stay near the front window and keep an eye on it. After some quick conversation with the tailor and some fumbling behind a floor length black curtain Dean emerged in his Tux and Sam was pretty sure it was the exact moment his heart fell into his stomach. Dean was gorgeous. Sam had never seen his brother in formal dress, let alone the brother he was now - muscles all the perfect size for his frame, and the way the Tuxedo fitted was unquestionably without fault. It took more than a few moments for Sam to work up enough spit to actually press out a "wow...look's fuckin' awesome.." before, flushing, hard and sweating he was backing out the door and offering to watch the bike.

While the tailor finished up the last of the adjustments Dean needed done, Dean considered the flush on Sam's face, the pleased way his grin tilted up, and felt his heart flutter in response. Clearly Sam had been affected by seeing Dean in his tux and Dean was starting to think they were just going to kill each other with the subtle sexual tension steadily building between them. Half an hour later Dean was walking out of the shop in his normal clothes, once more caught by the sight of his brother looking so drop dead gorgeous leaning against his bike. "Lunch?" He asked with a slight cough, scrubbing along the back of his neck slowly.

Nodding, relying on his grin again Sam waited until Dean was settled on the bike and slipped on the back. As soon as Dean started the bike Sam shifted forward, lips almost touching the back of his brother's ear. A shudder moved through him as he slipped one arm around Dean's waist and slid the other over his thigh, fingers curling into the denim ever-so-slightly. "Just holding on..." he breathed, knowing Dean could hear his over the low rumble of the engine.

Dean swallowed around the heat that burned through him at Sam's touch. His body shifted back slightly into Sam's as he half turned to glance over his shoulder at him. Unable to form any words Dean turned back but didn't try to move Sam's hands from his body. Instead he narrowed his eyes at the road before them, taking them down the street to a locally owned restaurant that he favoured. He'd eaten there enough that he knew the best place to park, pulling up by a pole that he could use to chain his bike too. Dean could feel Sam along ever curve of him it seemed and he was half tempted to just forget the meal and drive just so he didn't have to break away. But that was too close to torture and Dean reached forward to turn the key in the ignition, waiting for Sam to slide off the back before climbing off as well.

Waiting until Dean had the bike secured Sam followed him into the restaurant. It was pleasant and the food smelled good immediately setting Sam's stomach to growling. He smiled, embarrassed and patted his stomach. "I'm hungry I guess," he smirked at his brother. Once they were settled in a booth at the back of the restaurant Sam stretched his legs out under the table, moving them to the side slightly when his ankle grazed Dean's. "Sorry, long legs," he murmured.

"You didn't always used to be this nervous," Dean pointed out, lifting the menu under the pretence of scanning the items though he already knew exactly what he wanted. "Not around me anyway. Guess I can add that to the list of things about you that have changed in the past four years," he smiled briefly before fixing his eyes back on the menu.

"You didn't always... well," Sam let the side of his leg rest back against Dean's, "I didn't always have to try and win you back. That'll make a guy nervous." Sam shrugged and shoved his hair back off his face before picking up the menu. "What's good?" It wasn't nerves so much as all-consuming fear but the good thing about spending years as a hunter was that Sam was able to keep it only minimally obvious.

Dean shrugged and laid the menu down, "everything. It's all home cooked. Try something you've never heard of before, chances are it'll be what you'll like best. I've developed a real passion for the Creole food. I'm getting the jambalaya because they make their sausage from scratch and it's got just enough kick too..." Dean trailed off suddenly and looked up at Sam with slightly wide eyes. "I was rambling wasn't I?" He asked with a soft chuckle.

"I like hearing you talk, I've..." Sam looked up from his menu as he closed it, "missed hearing you talk." When the waiter stopped at the table Sam let Dean order his Jambalaya and a beer and just said he'd like the same. "So... now what?" Sam blew out a breath and tried to settle his nerves a little. "Wanna interview me? See if I'm the right guy for... well, see if you still..." He smiled and fiddled with his silverware.

Eyebrows lifting slightly Dean couldn't help the gentle smirk that played across his lips. "Look Sam, I think you should know something," he rubbed his fingers across the bottom curve of his lips for a moment, hesitating before dropping his hand and continuing. "I still love you. That's... not something that's ever going to change. But I can't just... be something... I... I'm so scared about being hurt again. You don't know how hard it was on me..." Dean shook his head and rubbed at his neck. "I understand if it's too hard to wait around for me to get over my issues... I guess I just want to be honest up front." He finished with a shrug and stared hard down at the table in front of him.

"I do know, how hard it was... is..." Sam replied softly, almost too quietly to be heard over the buzz of the restaurant. Sam licked his lips and stared out over the crowded room. "I wake up every morning and the first thing I feel is an ache because you're not right there, the second thing is..." he cleared his throat and looked across at his brother. "The second thing I feel is the stab of hurt I felt the night I came to you... when I remembered and how you didn't... well." He waited until Dean finally looked up then spoke softly, "some days it's okay. Some days it's hard to breathe without being able to see you. So I do know..." He blinked a few times and looked back down at the table. "And I'll wait forever."

"Yeah well I've been dealing with this for four years," Dean huffed slightly, looking toward the side. "Four years in which I thought you chose not to want me anymore. You haven't been alone all these years Sam and I know you were happy because that's what you the deal was. And... I'm different. You're different. How can you even be sure I'm what you want?" Dean folded his fingers together, glancing up at the waiter with a nod as the man set two beer bottles before them.

Sam knew his face reflected his sadness, the hurt that _his_ pain didn't matter. Scratching at his cheek Sam closed his eyes for a moment then looked down at his beer, watching the drops of water slide down the outside of the glass. "I said I was sorry, so many times." He sighed, wondering if they would always come back to this spot... this wall. "When we were... together," Sam cleared his throat, "I wanted to settle down, have a home, maybe a dog... a yard, somewhere to grow fuckin' flowers or some shit... if I wanted." He huffed out a small laugh. "I tried to talk to you about it once but you said your life was hunting, that was all. And, I wasn't - it was like I didn't exist to you somehow, like it was too far for you to reach across a table and grab my hand, or touch me." Sam took a deep breath. "I can take a lot things, Dean. But you gotta believe that I did what I did because I wanted you to be alive. That was it. I didn't wanna leave you. Not ever. I was willing to spend the rest of my stupid life doing something I hated - just so I could crawl into bed with you at night and know that you loved me." He whipped his beer up to his mouth and drank half of it down before setting it back gently on the table.

A wave of emotions crashed through Dean's body and his shoulders stiffened, lips pressing together to keep from blurting out the millions of things that came to mind in respond. "I asked you... you said there was nothing more... I couldn't read your mind Sam. It's not like you ever told me you wanted to settle down," he pushed at the bottle of beer, watching condensation trail along the table. "Whatever, it doesn't matter now. That's our past and it's over. I've told you where I stand so..." Dean shrugged once more and pulled the beer up, draining half of it at once.

Sam bit down hard on his bottom lip to stop the quiver he could feel there. "Okay." Sam's voice was quiet; he pulled his legs back and tucked them under his bench, folding himself back... away. He could wait his entire life for Dean and never make any of this up to his brother. Looking up he forced a slight smile, "so, I have... uh..." his voice wavered a little, "some erran... some work to do this afternoon. After lunch, I’ll maybe walk home from here." He looked up at Dean, "s'closer."

Dean nodded shortly, feeling like he just ruined all chances as Sam withdrew and the smile on his face shifted. It made his heart sink and Dean glanced at the door, half tempted to just get up and go because clearly this wasn't going to get either of them anywhere fast. Dean drained the rest of his beer and pushed back in his seat, sliding along the booth. "Maybe I should just go," he finally voiced, throat tight as he once more tried to get grips on the crazy whirlwind that was this day.

Drained, Sam looked up and shrugged. "Whatever you need to do, I just want you to be okay. But Dean I can't fight for _both_ of us. I need some help." Jaw clenched, Sam rubbed at his eyes. "I'll... I'll come by again on Saturday." It was all he had, the stupid fucking idea that if he kept going to see Dean - something would change.

Dean couldn't escape the dismissive note in Sam's tone, though some sane part of his mind suggested he just _wanted_ there to be a dismissive note so he didn't feel so guilty about leaving. "I've already told you I can't... Sorry. Clearly I'm not enough to keep fighting for..." Dean sighed heavily and clamped his eyes shut, shaking his head as he pushed out of the booth. Shame and embarrassment about the way he was acting, that fear that held him back, Dean's face flush with red and he reached in his wallet to pull out a twenty, throwing it on the table before turning and heading for the door.

Sam grabbed his wallet out of his pocket and threw far too much money on the table, slipped out of the booth and followed Dean out the door. He caught up to him beside the motorcycle, grabbed his arm _hard_ and whirled his brother around so their bodies slammed together. Hurt and fear and _God_ so much love he felt like he would choke on it was welled up inside Sam. "If you really need me to leave you alone you tell me _now_. I can wait a long time for you, but I need to know there's a chance." When Dean said nothing, Sam squeezed his eyes shut for a moment then ducked his head down, sliding his lips across his brother's. Feeling the gasp of surprised breath from dean's lips, Sam tilted his head and sank down into the kiss. Dean was stiff, tense under his grip and Sam's tongue moved forward to slide along his brother's full bottom lip. Knees almost buckling, Sam pulled back- the intensity of the last few hours finally cracking him in half. "I love you," he murmured and turned to run off down the street. He didn't want Dean to answer... tell him to leave him alone because he didn't know what he would do.

Shock kept Dean rooted to his spot, hand slowly lifting to rest against his tingling lips. His breath was coming out in short pants and his shoulders shook as Sam's image disappeared around a corner. Dean's heart clenched tightly in his chest and he turned slowly, dipping down to unfasten the chain around his motorcycle. He headed toward Eliza and Ian's place, barely managing to keep it together until they'd opened the door and ushered him inside.


	7. Chapter 7

By the time Saturday rolled around Dean felt like a bigger idiot than he had in any previous interaction he had with Sam. After speaking with Eliza and Ian he realized that he’d sounded stupid and childish and that he needed to give Sam some clue that this was what he wanted. It was almost too much for his brain to sort through. He’d spent _years_ thinking he just wasn’t enough and trying to convince himself that he _was_ seemed like an almost impossible thing. More than a dozen times he sat and stared down at the business card Ian had given him, fingers starting to dial the phone number listed before he snapped his phone shut and shook his head.   
What more was there left for him to say? Dean had basically shrugged off all the confusion and heartache his brother was clearly dealing with and that was so _not like him_ it was almost terrifying. All his life looking after Sam was the most important thing, making sure he was taken care of and looked after, and now Dean was dismissing that as if it were nothing. Despite everything that had happened in their past, the truth remained that Sam had given them up to _save his life_ and now he’d given up the life he had known to come to New Orleans. Apparently to win Dean back, though he couldn't fathom why Sam would even want to do that.   
From the moment he woke on Saturday Dean was bubbling with anxiety and fear, scared to the point where his fingers shook because it seemed like a very real possibility that Sam wasn't going to come and Dean really didn't feel inclined to deal with the aftermath of that realization. Nathan and Claudia seemed to pick up on his turmoil of emotions and did a good job of playing quietly on the playstation Dean had bought a few weeks before. He alternated between pacing the living room and glancing out the window, forcing himself to stop being such a paranoid freak and dropping down onto the couch with a huff.   
Of course as fate would mean Dean was in the bathroom when the doorbell rang. He yelled a quick, "I'll get it," as he rushed through zipping his pants back up and tried not to bolt out of the room and down the hall. Pulling the door open Dean's face fell as he found himself staring into thin air, no evidence of Sam anywhere. Glancing down his frown deepened as he stepped onto the front step and dipped down to pick up the two cups of a specialty ice cream Dean recognized from a shop a few blocks down. Dean blinked slowly as he picked them up, eyes lifting to scan around the street.   
Dean carried the ice cream inside, much to the delight of the Nathan and Claudia and let the children take them into the kitchen to eat while he leaned against the wall and tried to process what this meant. Clearly the ice cream was from Sam, and that warmed his heart, even though it was a bit on the sad side that Sam hadn't even stuck around to say hello. Dean thought he might have deserved that. He had no idea what that meant for them but it was at least nice to know Sam hadn't up and left the state or something.   
Deciding there was really no choice but to just write it off as Sam's thing, Dean went with the flow of the day and let the anxiety and tension melt away. After Claudia and Nathan went home Dean went into work at the bar, picking up an extra shift when Eliza called and _begged_ him to. On his way home he almost thought he might find Sam waiting for him on his porch but there was no one and no note and Dean sighed as he walked inside.

The following day he seriously considered calling Sam another dozen or so times. If just to let him know they got the ice cream and greatly appreciated it. But Dean honestly didn't have any clue what to say and anything he came up with seemed not nearly enough to appropriately address everything he was feeling. So he called it an early night and fell into a restless sleep half past ten. He was fairly certain he dreamed about Sam but when he woke in the morning he couldn't narrow the dream down.

He also couldn't figure out what had woken him until the doorbell rang for the second time. Dean groaned and rolled off the bed, stumbling down the hall and rubbed at his eye with the heel of his hand as he reached out to turn the lock. Tugging the door open he found himself once more staring at Sam in the early morning sunshine. "Hi," he said quietly, blinking the remaining sleep from his eyes.

Sam smiled, a gentle smile - maybe a little sad still - but a smile none-the-less. He held out a Styrofoam cup of coffee. "Hi," he answered. He turned slightly, wondering if just for today that was enough. There were lots of things Sam had yet to figure out but one thing he did know was that he wasn't ready to be blasted again. _Not yet._

Reaching out Dean took the coffee and stepped back, opening the door wider to allow Sam entrance. "You have this tendency for showing up really early on my days off," Dean pointed out, bringing the coffee to his lips and sipping softly. Not that he wasn't inwardly relieved to see Sam there; his heart was already fluttering in response.

"When we were... you used to be really sweet in the mornings. It was the only time you..." Sam blushed, remembering their final morning together, the feel of Dean's arms wrapped around him. He hesitated, "you want me to come back later?" Sam's hand swept out behind him.

"No," Dean shook his head and turned to head for the kitchen, taking another long drink from his coffee. "You want some food or something? I could whip up some eggs," he called over his shoulder, setting the coffee on the counter and pulling open the fridge. The cool air washed over him, reminding him that he was still in only his boxers. "I um... should probably get dressed huh?" He said as he stood and closed the fridge, thinking how weird it was, like their day from last week starting all over.

Smiling, Sam looked down as he appeared at the door to the kitchen. "I'm not hungry - I'll wait here, if you wanna get dressed." In that moment, Sam was sixteen again, watching his brother pad around in the kitchen as he cooked them breakfast, the sound of the fridge door opening and closing, the smell of the coffee. Shaking his head Sam drew himself back, they weren't teenagers anymore.

"Okay," Dean nodded and stepped from the fridge, heading for the door. There was something slightly sad in Sam's eyes and Dean's path was possibly decided before he his feet were even in motion. "Sam..." he breathed as he stepped into his brother's body, lifting a hand up to cup along the back of his neck and twine through his hair. Dean could feel the heat of his brother through the thin layer of fabric separating their flesh. He'd been wanting this for _so_ long that he swayed for a moment before closing the distance and brushing their lips together. Pleasure shot instantly through him and Dean swallowed thickly before tugging Sam in and slanting his mouth slightly open over his brother's, falling into the kiss as if it were the only thing that would keep him sane at this point.

Gasping into his brother's mouth, Sam fell back against the door frame hands moving of their own accord to hover for a few moments then rest over Dean's hips. The kiss was soft at first, the gentle tug of full lips against Sam's; he sighed, lips parting slightly as Dean slid closer. Wet and warm, Sam could taste the coffee on Dean's lips but underneath that... _God_. Sam's legs twitched, almost gave out and he slid down the door frame slightly - tongue slipping forward shyly to drag across his brother's bottom lip.

A soft moan fell from Dean's lips into the kiss as his body moved forward into Sam's, heart hammering hard against his chest as his tongue snaked forward to graze along Sam's slowly. It was just like he remembered and at the same time a million times better than he'd expected. Like he hadn't been good and properly kissed since the last time his lips thoroughly met Sam's. Heat was building low between his legs and Dean's body moved forward of its own volition. "Sam," he gasped into the kiss and pulled back staring at him with slightly wide, lust blown eyes before he pulled back completely and sucked in a breath. "I... clothes..." he muttered vaguely and bee lined for his bedroom.

Stunned, body thrumming with a million different kinds of _good_ and _Jesus-Christ-that-nearly-killed-me_ , Sam nodded mutely and let his head fall back against the door frame. The kiss trailed through his body like the heat from a warm fire when he'd come in from the snow. Slow at first then burning, racing through his veins. Pressing his lips together Sam slid down the wood behind him and sat down on the floor. Finally able to breathe properly, he smiled. He could wait for Dean. He could wait a long time.

Dean took his time getting dressed, giving them both a chance to calm themselves down after a mind blowing kiss. He was actually a little shocked at himself for having done that but something in him felt soothed, reassured, and that was something at least. When he'd finally slipped into his casual jeans, t-shirt combo a good fifteen minutes had passed and Dean felt like he could go out into the kitchen without pinning Sam up against the wall and rushing all the steps. For a split second he thought Sam might have left then he caught sight of his body curled on the floor right where Dean had left him standing and a small smile lifted his lips. "So... what are the plans for today?" He asked quietly, reclaiming his coffee and walking to the other side of the kitchen doorway, leaning against the wood and sliding down to sit.

Sam smiled at Dean, turning his head slightly so he could peer at his brother from under his hair. "I need to get a haircut," although frankly, with the ghost of a sensation of Dean's fingers still tangled in his hair Sam wasn't very likely to do that. "Or... we could just go see a movie - do something that doesn't involve talking." His smile grew to a grin, "maybe we could spend more time together if we're not talking as much." There'd be no more _I love you_ 's from Sam, no more questions, not more wishes. He was just going to take what Dean would let him have and be happy to have him at all.

Chuckling softly Dean nodded, "yeah, you're probably right. Though I don't think you should get a haircut." He grinned at his brother and glanced out of the kitchen to the living room. "This is probably pretty lame but how would you feel about taking Nathan and Claudia to the new Disney animated whatever, I said I would and today's Sheila's day off, she'd probably enjoy some time to herself." Dean looked back at Sam with a slightly hopeful smile.

"Love Disney..." Sam smiled and reached out to touch Dean's arm, changed his mind at the last second and dropped his hand to his own knee. "That sounds like a great idea. Can I get mouse ears?" He was having trouble even looking at his brother, still fighting the urge to touch him, drag him closer; four years ago for Dean - moments for Sam.

Laughter growing stronger Dean shook his head, "no way dude, bad enough I'm gonna be stuck through something like that for a few hours, I'm not gonna look like the only sane one in our crazy group." Pushing up to his feet Dean drained the rest of his coffee before stepping toward Sam and holding out his hand to pull him up.

Sam's fingers curled into his palms as he stared at Dean's hand for a few moments then pushed himself up on his own. "I'm good," he smiled. He wasn't _good_ he was terrified that one false move would erase the one step forward he'd just been allowed. "You gonna phone over there or just go and get them," he stepped out into the hallway, bumping nervously against the door then rubbing his shoulder.

Dean stared down at his open hand still holding out for Sam who was no longer there and curled his fingers together, biting his lip as his hand dropped to his side. Shaking off the slight sting of rejection Dean headed into the hallway and bent down to grab his shoes. "We'll just swing by. I uh... actually don't think I even know their phone number come to think of it. I know Sheila's work number but that's about it." Dean glanced at Sam and shrugged before bending over to slip into his shoes.

Bending down, Sam slipped his boots on and tugged his pant legs back down. "Okay, you need anything else?" He glanced back up the hallway then turned to leave not realizing he was right beside his brother. "Sorry," he murmured and stepped to the side quickly.

Sighing softly Dean stared at Sam for a moment before shaking his head and heading for the door. He couldn't figure out what was going on with his brother, whether he was being safe because he was unsure or if Dean had crossed a line with the kiss that he shouldn't have. Stopping with his fingers curled around the doorknob, Dean turned and looked back at him. "Sam? Is it going to be like this the rest of the day?" He asked quietly, voice a mix between sad and confused.

"What?" Sam felt his heart drop. "What did I do wrong?" He shifted nervously behind his brother.

"Well, you're acting like touching me is gonna give you the fucking plague or something," Dean mumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck and frowning. "Should I not have kissed you? Was that... too much for right now?"

"I don't wanna screw things up again." Sam blinked a few times, dragging his thumb along his bottom lip. Looking down he unclenched his shaking fist and reached forward to slip his fingers into Dean's hand. "I wanna touch you all the time," he whispered. "I just don't want you to... leave again."

"Yeah, I don't you to leave again either," Dean said quietly and spread his fingers to lace with Sam's, watching him for a moment longer before pulling the door open and tugging Sam out with him into the morning air.

-=-=-=-

The day with Nathan and Claudia was surprisingly more pleasing than Dean had initially anticipated. It always made him feel good to do something to help out his neighbour and friend, and the relief on Sheila's face clearly said he and Sam were helping, but more than that, Dean had a genuine good time. Watching Sam playing and interacting with Nathan and Claudia was both entertaining and heart-warming and Dean found himself lingering back on more than one occasion to watch how Sam laughed so carefree with the two, swinging their hands easily in his own. Dean imagined that Sam would be a great dad given the opportunity, which made him wonder why being with him seemed like the right choice. But Dean didn't question Sam on it because that hardly seemed fair by this point. By the time they arrived home both were fairly exhausted and Sam claimed his long walk home as a reason not to come inside. Dean offered him a ride but, with a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips, Sam insisted it was better if he walked. And Dean spent the evening imagining his brother's lips on his, heart fluttering in a way that only felt good.

Sam stuck to his plan, showing up at Dean's Monday, Wednesday and Saturday. Wednesday Sam showed up a little later. Well, the truth of the matter was that Sam sat outside on Dean's porch until he was pretty sure he could hear Dean moving around and _then_ he pushed the doorbell. Dean had some work to do in the garden so Sam followed along and ended up pulling weeds from a flower patch out back. Halfway through the beautiful morning he tugged his t-shirt off and was crawling around in the dirt when he looked up and noticed Dean watching him from the side of the house with a broad smile and slightly glazed eyes. Sam just went back to weeding, pleased to know that Dean was as affected by him as _he_ was by his brother. By mid-afternoon they were finished the entire to-do list Dean had for his garden and Sam was thrilled to fall face down on the back lawn and wait there until Dean brought out some lemonade. They spent a few hours talking in the shade of one of Dean's trees and Sam felt himself finally relax. He actually started to feel like Dean wouldn't run from him if he made a mistake - moved too quickly or too slowly. Stretching lazily, like a cat in the summer sun Sam turned onto his side and curled his hand over his brother's arm while his listened to Dean's stories about repairing the house. When the sun finally set, Sam headed home after simply brushing his fingers across Dean's lips and smiling.

On Saturday Dean had been expecting Sam and he woke a little earlier than usual and made chocolate chip pancakes like he used to do on Saturdays when they were younger. He threw the door open only moments after Sam had hit the buzzer and nearly dragged him down the hall in his excitement. It made Sam laugh and Dean couldn't help joining in. For awhile they just laughed, probably more from the relieving of the tension that always fell between them than anything else but it felt really _good_ and Dean soaked it in happily. After breakfast they walked the three blocks to the grocery store, Dean recruiting Sam's help to carry the bags home. Usually he borrowed Sheila's car and took the kids along but it was nice to spend some time with his brother out and about in public. Occasionally Dean reached out and brushed his arm or hand, let their hips slide together. Little touches to let Sam know it was okay, that things were going so much better than he anticipated. After they'd brought the groceries home and unloaded them Dean made them lunch before Eliza came to get him to work on more wedding things. Dean squeezed Sam's hand in his and brought it up to brush his lips along the knuckle before stepping back from his front porch and smiling as a goodbye.

Monday was a quiet day. Sam brought his laptop with him to Dean's and they spent the morning together on the front porch drinking coffee, chatting. Dean had some odd-jobs to do inside the house but Sam stayed, happy to just be there, hearing Dean puttering around in the house behind him. It felt... like it would feel to be _home_. He wasn't jumping the gun - he knew that it may never happen - they may never be like that again but Sam felt like part of something. For once, he felt like there was a real reason to exist. Sam finally relented. Walking back and forth between their homes was starting to wear him out. When he asked Dean for a ride home he was pleased that Dean looked happy to oblige. Of course, sliding on the bike behind his brother made Sam a little cautious. Keeping his hands a safe distance back on Dean's waist and his lips to himself he managed to survive the ride and hopped off the bike happy. He was halfway to the front door of his building before he threw everything down and jogged back to press a gentle kiss to Dean's lips. There was still a grin on his face when he headed up the stairs to his place.

On Wednesday Dean dressed in nice slacks and a button down shirt, waking up earlier than usual and hastily downing a cup of coffee before heading out to his motorcycle. He arrived at Sam's just as his brother was heading down the steps to leave, calling out to him when he didn't automatically turn. Sam seemed surprised to see him, even more surprised to see how he was dressed and Dean just shrugged off his backpack and told Sam to hop on. They headed to one of the many cemeteries in town and Dean led the way through the stone crypts until they came to the one he was looking for. Dean laid his hand against the flat stone and told Sam about Mrs. Salus. He'd only mentioned her a few times but she'd been such a big part of his life Dean thought Sam had the right to know. Afterward Dean took Sam on a long ride through the bayou, showing his brother some of his favourite locations and the beauty of the city. They stopped for lunch along the river and by the time Dean brought him home it was late evening. He swung his leg over the bike as Sam stepped way and leaned back on the seat, reaching out to tug his arm and pull him in for a slow, gentle brush of lips. A smile lingered along his mouth as he ruffled Sam's hair affectionately before climbing back on and heading home.

The following Saturday, Sam was finishing up some research... hours of research. He phoned Dean and left a message explaining that it was an important case and said he would see him Monday. After hours slumped over his laptop he finally managed to submit his research and decided to head down to the club to surprise his brother. Watching Dean at work was like seeing Dean in a different world. He was graceful, yeah, graceful behind a bar, fast on his feet. There was nearly always a smile on his face as he spoke to patrons whether he knew them or not. The smile was contagious. Sam nodded at Ian who noticed him first and settled at the end of the bar just watching his brother.

"Your boy is here," Ian whispered against Dean's ear, hand resting on his hip. "You should go give him a proper kiss hello."

Dean turned slightly to look up at Ian, eyes wide, "I can't just... I don't think we're really at that stage."

"Why not?" Ian laughed, turning back to the bar to serve a customer. "What's stopping you?"

As Ian walked away Dean turned and spotted Sam down at the end of the bar. Considering the question, Dean's lips lifted in a slight smile and he half waved before turning to the customer who was trying to get his attention. He continued to think about Ian's question as he served several large groups in a row, smiling though it was distracted and their words only registered in the forms of drinks. Finally the crowd calmed down enough for him to walk toward Sam, getting a hip bump from Eliza in encouragement, and Dean swallowed his nerves. Wetting his lips he headed down the bar and stopped in front of his brother, smiling softly, head dipping down, "hi," he said just loud enough to be heard, looking up at him and extending a hand across the bar.

Without thinking Sam slid his fingers forward and over Dean's hand. "I missed you," he said. Leaning forward Sam leaned on the bar so he could hear Dean. "You’re having a busy night... I won't stay long - just needed to see you." He smiled, fingers moving softly on Dean's hand.

Dean's eyes shot toward Eliza and Ian, who were both watching though pretending like they weren't, before sliding back to Sam. There were probably a dozen reasons why he shouldn't, their first public kiss in front of a crowded bar where Dean worked wasn't exactly the ideal location, but Dean _wanted_ too and that was enough for him. Swallowing once more, Dean reached out with his free hand and curled his fingers along the back of Sam's neck, pulling him in and tilting his head to the side to slant his lips over Sam's. His abs pressed hard into the bar top as he leaned as close as he could, crushing into Sam.

Sam's hands scrambled for purchase on the bar then he gave up leaning as far forward as he could and sliding his arm high around Dean's back. His mouth opened immediately, invitingly and his eyelids fluttered shut as his lips moved desperately against Dean's. It was wet, and the heat of his brother's mouth was scorching, Sam’s heart was thundering in his ears drowning out the sounds of the club. It was just Dean's soft lips, his brother's mouth finally working against his with a passion that Sam could almost taste.

A soft moan fell from his lips as his tongue slid along Sam's, kiss heightening in passion as he nearly bent his body completely over the bar. Dean pulled back with a soft gasp, hand sliding back to graze along his brother's jaw line. "I'm glad you came," he whispered against Sam's lips, letting their noses brush together as he slowly fell back to his feet, hand still resting against Sam's.

Sliding back down off the bar Sam grinned, wide-eyed, heart still thudding away. "I'm... _really_ glad." Glancing to the side and realizing people were staring Sam dipped his head down, staring at Dean's hand and threading their fingers together. "Can you have a break soon? Or should I just... let you get back to work?"

"It's about break time," Dean nodded, glancing over at Ian and Eliza who were very pointedly pretending not to look. He waved at them with a gesture of his hand before walking down a few steps to round the bar and step up to Sam. "You wanna go out back with me? It's uh... kind of hot in here..." he smiled at Sam and reached out to tuck hair behind his ear.

"Sure," Sam slid off his bar stool and followed Dean, reaching out for his hand as he almost lost him in the crowd.

Dean's heart was fluttering pleasantly in his chest as he led Sam through the bar, smiling at people who caught his eye as they moved along through the crowd. Finally the backdoor came into view and Dean sighed in relief as he pushed it open with a bump of his hip. Tugging Sam out into the alleyway Dean smiled and turned to him, stepping in to once more cup the back of his neck and bring their lips together. "Finish your research?" He murmured into the kiss, fingers weaving in the silky locks at the base of Sam's neck.

Nodding, Sam licked his lips and slid his hand around to press his palm against the small of Dean’s back. T-shirt damp with sweat, Sam could feel the heat of his brother's flesh radiating through the material. "Researched," Sam sucked on Dean's bottom lip briefly then pulled back to mumble, "I mean, I finished." Fingers curling into the firm muscle of his brother's back Sam slid his free hand forward to hook a finger through Dean's belt loop. Blinking Sam tried to pull back, "I should... this is...”

It was pretty obvious what Sam was suggesting, stopping, and Dean had to admit that it was a pretty good idea. Otherwise they'd end up going way too far in the back alley of his work that _really_ wasn't how Dean pictured their first time together again. He sucked Sam's lower lip into his mouth for a moment before dragging it out and letting go, stepping back and dragging two hands through his hair. "Sorry I... got a little carried away," he chuckled uncertainly and shifted in his jeans.

Blowing out a slightly frustrated breath Sam smiled, eye brows lifting slightly. "Well, feel free to get carried away... anytime." He could feel his cheeks burning and his jeans were feeling pretty tight. Tugging his t-shirt out of his jeans he let it fall over his pants, wrinkling up his nose as he smiled. "Y...You make me... a little... crazy."

"Thanks?" Dean smiled softly and paced back and forth down the alley way a few times, trying to calm the want pulsing through his veins. "It's just... we're in an alley and that's not... you know..." he shrugged and looked at Sam, stepping toward him and catching his hand.”We should probably keep taking it slow anyway right? I mean... it's good. This thing between us... it's getting really good and neither of us wants to ruin that," his smile wavered as his eyes drifted down from Sam's eyes to his lips, body swaying forward slightly before he forced himself to straighten.

Sam ran his thumb along Dean's bottom lip and then slid his fingers along his brother's jaw. "Not... an alley." He smiled eyes full of warmth. "But maybe," he trailed the pads of his fingers down the length of his brother's neck and along his collar bone, fingers dipping just under the edge of Dean's shirt. "Maybe... we could do some things... I mean, I'd like," Sam blinked, "more."

Swallowing thickly Dean shifted forward, mind reeling slightly as he thought about _more_. "Y-yeah... I think... you know... more would be good," he smiled softly and curved his fingers along Sam's hip. "You gotta work tomorrow?" He asked quietly, dipping forward slightly to whisper his lips along Sam's jaw, free hand barely grazing along his side.

"No work... no..." Sam leaned into Dean's body, rubbing his cheek across his brother's and mouthing his way gently along Dean's temple and into his hair. "You smell good," he murmured, inhaling a deep breath.

Dean's eyes fluttered closed as Sam's heat pressed into him, familiar and different, stronger and sure. "You... wanna come over? When I get off?" He asked, suddenly far more nervous that he rightly thought he should be. This was Sam after all but more and more recently he felt less like his brother and more like... _more_.

"How long..." Sam's lips moved against Dean's ear, "do I have to wait for you?" He caught Dean's earlobe between his teeth and tugged gently then sucked it into his mouth for a few moments. Tongue flicking over the warm skin, Sam moaned softly and pulled back, eyes glassy, dark.

Heat bubbled along Dean's senses and he blew out a long breath, leaning into Sam's body. He couldn't remember being this turned on in a long time and he suddenly wished he could just leave right _now_. "I get off at one," he mumbled, hand on Sam's hipbone squeezing firmly. "Can you wait around until then?" He smiled and looked up at his brother, leaning in on impulse and brushing their lips together.

"I can..." Sam pressed his lips to the corner of Dean's mouth, gently. "Wanna go back in?" Sam's grin was pretty broad and pretty permanent. "You know before I kidnap you..."

"Kidnapping me sounds appealing," Dean admitted and dipped in for another slow, languid kiss before slowly pulling back. "Yeah... let's go in before Eliza comes out and asks if she can watch," Dean laughed and pulled Sam toward the door. "Oh yeah, before I forget," he turned back to Sam and smiled nervously, "Monday night... do you um... maybe want to go get dinner with Eliza and Ian, and me of course. They... want to go on a double date," he laughed softly, shaking his head.

Sam's lips twitched, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "you'll only kiss _me_ though right?" Sam wasn't a jealous guy by nature but Ian was pretty hot.

Laughing louder Dean nodded, "yeah I'll only kiss you. They know I'm off limits now." He smiled brightly at Sam, turning in to kiss him once more. Truthfully, Dean could really get used to kissing becoming a more constant part of their _dates_ together.

Backing toward the door to the club, Sam sucked and nipped at Dean's lips, tugging his brother with him. "Okay," he dragged his tongue across Dean's mouth one last time, sighed and stepped back. "Ready? I need a drink..."

Chuckling softly Dean nodded and tugged the door open, leading Sam inside. Once more they weaved through the crowd until they arrived back at the bar. Dean stepped behind it reached down to grab a beer, sliding it onto a coaster and pushing it toward Sam. The heat of the busy club was doing little to cool him off and Dean smiled at Sam before heading further down the bar to take and fill orders.

Of course this would be the one night that seemed to drag by even though Dean was pretty busy and the club was its usual packed Saturday night club. Dean found himself drifting over to Sam whenever he could, ignoring the teasing remarks from Eliza and Ian about being a _love sick puppy dog_. He knew they were just as happy for him as he was, getting the chance to do things right this time and it was going really _well_. They were different from how they once were and Dean found he preferred it this way. Sam was more than just his little brother, though he probably could tease him just as easily it was never in the same manner.

By the time one o'clock rolled around Dean was nearly bouncing in his shoes, ready to be off work and for... whatever it was that he and Sam were going to do. Which hopefully involved a lot more kissing and touching. Preferably without clothes.

Finally Eliza came up and smacked him with her dish rag, instructing him to get the hell out of there before he scared off the patrons. Dean simply laughed and threw her the middle finger before skidding down the bar and sliding around the corner. "I'm just gonna grab my bag and we'll be ready to go," he informed Sam, dipping in to press a kiss to his lips before taking off through the lingering crowd to the backroom.

Ian stepped up in front of Sam, smiling at the grin on his face and reaching out to take the empty beer in front of him, "so things are going well I take it?" He asked Sam casually, though the answer was pretty obvious.

Sam pressed his lips together, looking up at Ian then nodding. "Slow and steady," he said finally. "Listen, you know that time I came in here... thanks... for... well, telling me not to give up." Sam let his smile spread back over his face again. "You're obviously a good friend to Dean."

"Only the best," Ian snorted and shook his head. "Well actually, I just gave you advice I got from a friend back when Eliza and I were just meeting. She uh... was never the settling down type. Still isn't I suppose but we make do," he laughed softly and nodded. "I'm glad that things are working out for you two. Dean's... really happy. It's good to see him that way."

"Yeah... it _is_ good. M'glad I can... help with that. I hear we're all going out Monday?" Sam smiled, "that outta be fun." He tried not to look as terrified as he felt. He'd heard some stories about Ian and Eliza - and it didn't seem like there was much they wouldn't do if they thought it was entertaining.

"Don't worry, Eliza may seem like a lot but she knows when to leave well enough alone. Our _helping Dean out_ days are long gone," he laughed softly and shook his head. "We should have a lot of fun, after all, you two are our go to couple now," he joked, smiling at Dean as the man appeared.

"I hope you're not talking about me," Dean sighed and shook his head. "Can't leave Sam unattended for a minute," he scoffed and laid his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Ready to go?"

Sam slid off the stool, letting his body slid down his brother's side. It wasn’t like Dean moved back so obviously, it was okay. Grinning, Sam waved at Ian, "see you Monday. We'll dress pretty for Eliza." Throwing his head back Sam laughed at Eliza's expression as she walked up and overheard.

"Please do," she called as Dean dragged Sam out of the club and to the front door.

"That woman, I swear there’s a gay man trapped in there," Dean laughed, loosening his grip but not pulling away as they stepped out of the club and headed for his motorcycle.


	8. Chapter 8

Waiting until his brother fired up the engine Sam slid onto the seat behind him, pressing up as close as he could. Sliding his broad hands down over Dean's hips, then over his thighs he let his thumbs drag along the crease at the top of Dean's thighs. Nuzzling into his brother's neck Sam sucked on a small patch of skin just above his collar; he couldn't even tell whether he was shaking or the throb of the engine was just rocking him.

"Jesus," Dean murmured, leaning into Sam's body as his eyes fluttered. "Gonna kill us if you keep that up," he chuckled thickly and pushed the bike forward, pulling them out of the parking lot. Sam's hands and lips on him were a continuous distraction for Dean as he drove, focusing in on the road so he didn't crash, or pull the bike over and drag Sam up against the nearest hard surface. He'd never been more relieved to see his house and he swallowed deeply a few times as he turned the bike off. "Now you're driving _me_ crazy," he said in the sudden quiet around them.

Sam mouthed his way down his brother's neck, "m'likin' the motorcycle thing." He slid his hands up slowly, palms sliding across Dean's firm stomach, "is this okay?" He spoke against the back of Dean's ear, tongue darting out to lap along the cartilage.

"More than," Dean tilted his head to the side to give Sam more access to his neck. "Though I uh... think we should go inside... neighbours and all..." he chuckled softly and leaned heavily into Sam's chest. "Or we could just wheel the bike into the garage," he said quietly, eyes closing as heat from Sam's hands moved along his chest.

Rolling his hips forward into Dean's ass a small moan escaped him, Sam gasped, "sorry..." His body was on fire, it had been a long time since he'd felt anything like what was swirling through his body. He slid back, stepping down off the bike and staring at his brother. "It's... it's been a while... since..." Blowing out a breath Sam smiled.

"Since sex in general or..." Dean glanced at Sam as he slid off the bike and kicked the stand down before walking to the garage, bending down to unlock it and pull it up. His heart was racing in his chest and Dean could feel heat pressing low along his crotch.

"Since it felt like this." Sam walked into the garage behind his brother, "how about you?" Sam's eyes moved over the lines of Dean's body, gentle curve of his ass, strong thighs.

Nodding slowly Dean kicked the stand down once more after he had the motorcycle in place and turned to look at Sam from the faint light coming into the garage. "Yeah... it's been a long while since someone affected me like this... probably not since the last time you and I..." Dean shrugged and scratched at his neck. "How long has it been since you were with someone?" His eyes widened slightly as he realized that _someone_ was probably Jess and that might not be Sam's favourite subject to discuss. "Sorry that's really not any of my business."

"Jess... although less often than you might think." Sam smiled, "I was pretty stressed at school, long nights, not a lot of sleep." He stepped closer eyes drawn to the gleam of light off the chrome on the bike. "There were some... well, you know guys and their friends." Sam shrugged a shoulder, "if I promise... to behave, can I stay here tonight? I'll sleep in the guest room." He closed the distance between them, nose trailing in small circles on his brother's cheek.

"You don't have to stay in the guest room," Dean said quietly, hands curling around Sam's hips. "I kind of assumed you'd just stay the night..." he shrugged and pulled back slightly to consider Sam. "What do you mean guys and their friends?" His eyebrows lifted slightly, ignoring the slight twinge of jealousy in favour of satisfying his curiosity.

"You know," Sam's eyebrows dipped, lips pursing to kiss the warm flesh just in front of Dean's ear, "tellin' me you've never had a blow job from a friend?" Breath catching in his chest as the visual image of Dean spread out in front of him flashed through his mind; Sam shifted pressing his lips to Dean's temple, his cheek, dipping down to kiss the corner of his brother's mouth.

Leaning up into Sam's touch Dean huffed out a quiet laugh, "well yeah actually I have. Not that I have a wide selection of friends." Dean's hands slid along Sam's sides, dipping briefly under his shirt and ghosting along his skin. "You... wanna go inside?" He suggested, knees dipping slightly as Sam's kisses rocked through him.

"Mhmmm," Sam murmured against Dean's jaw. The rough skin on Dean's palms sent shivers darting across Sam's back and he arched unconsciously forwards, chest pressing against Dean's.

Pushing back gently Dean smiled at Sam before curling his fingers around Sam's wrist and tugging him out of the garage. He hastily pulled the door down and locked it before leading the way to the front door, twisting the lock easily and kicking his shoes off just inside the hallway. "So, did you ever fuck another guy?" Dean asked, surprised by the bluntness of the question and laughing.

"Dude!" Sam feigned innocence and shock as he toed off his boots. "Have you?" Sam couldn't hide his smile for very long. Turning, Sam pushed the door shut, one hand on either side of Dean's neck, staring into his brother's eyes. _God_ , it felt good to be with Dean, be relaxed, be _this_ turned on. Dean's breath puffed out warm against Sam's cheek.

"No way, I'm not answering until you do," Dean scoffed and leaned against the wall, pulling Sam between his slightly spread legs with a tug on his waistband. It was probably some perverse part of him that wanted to know but Dean couldn't escape the thought now that it had sprung up. "Did you... ever bottom for anyone else?" He reiterated, fingers once more sliding under Sam's skin and along his waist line.

Sam's hand slid down over Dean's shoulder, his chest, bumped over his abs then he twisted his wrist and slid his hand straight down over Dean's belt, _so_ near the hard line in his jeans and then down his thigh. "Never..." The tip of his tongue snaked out to probe at the corner of Dean's mouth until his brother's lips parted with a gasp.

Opening his mouth wide Dean slid his hands further up Sam's back, pressing flat into the skin as their bodies crushed together. He moaned into the kiss and pushed back from the wall, guiding Sam backward down the hall as their tongues tangled together. "G-good," he whispered into the kiss, nails scraping along Sam's back, shoulder bumping hard into the wooden door frame of his bedroom. "Always knew..." he broke the kiss and stepped back enough to tug Sam's shirt over his head, "you were mine..." he whispered once more before dipping in to run his lips along Sam's neck, sucking on his collarbone rough enough to pull blood to the surface.

Sam hissed out a breath, pain and pleasure mingling and sliding down his spine. "I... you... what about you," Sam struggled to get the words out. "B..Bet you've fucked other guys," Sam's hips rolled forward against his brothers as heat flared through him - jealousy tipping his lust over the edge. Sliding along the wall, Sam dragged Dean with him - hands sliding round to cup his brother's ass.

"Coupla times," Dean murmured, rolling back forward into Sam's body. "Mostly just... foolin' around though..." Dean kissed his way up Sam's neck until their lips could slide together once more. "Been awhile since... anyone," he spoke into the kiss, hands sliding along Sam's chest. "Well... minus the random Ian blow job couple of months ago," he chuckled softly and let his palm graze along the hard line in the front of Sam's jeans.

Shuddering, Sam's fingers curled into the silky material of Dean's shirt, "you..." he breathed, "and Ian..." Sam stumbled, clumsy with the _want_ that was slamming into him. Bringing his hands forward Sam fumbled with the buttons on Dean's shirt, giving up after three and sliding his long fingers under the hem to pull his brother's shirt off over his head. "Hot..." he whispered, "but... don't let him ever touch you again." Sam growled and leaned in to his brother's neck biting hard on the tender skin below Dean's jaw.

Dean's head fell back to grant Sam's lips more room, fingers sliding up to tug at his brother's waist line and free the button. "Gonna... mark me up?" He growled softly, pulling Sam's zipper down and shoving a hand roughly inside. "Make me yours?" He nearly whispered the words, heart racing as his fingers curled around Sam's hard flesh. He felt bigger than Dean remembered, more full in his hand, and Dean moaned as he stroked surely up.

" _Jesus_ ," Sam groaned out against Dean's neck. He rolled Dean's flesh between his teeth then latched his mouth over the abused skin, sucking the blood up to the surface. His hands clawed at Dean's back as his brother's rough palm glided over his cock. "Dean... need to lie... gonna..." Sam's knees buckled and he fell hard against Dean. He could feel the muscle's of Dean's back rippling under his hands, his neck corded under Sam's wet mouth. "Please..." he murmured, trying to tug Dean toward the bedroom even though only the vaguest notion of where they were remained in his mind.

Freeing his hand Dean pulled back and spun enough to grab Sam by the open fly on his jeans and drag him the rest of the way down the hall to his room. Want and need flared so intensely it blurred his vision and Dean panted softly, nearly throwing Sam down onto the bed. He bent to grab Sam's jeans at the hem along his ankle and tug down sharply. Dean's actions were nearly a blur as he pulled Sam's boxers down as well and shoved his own jeans and boxers down a moment later. Crawling over his brother's body he blinked a few times and smiled in a way that was oddly shy considering he'd just stripped them both in a matter of seconds. "I... is this okay? I really want..." he swallowed the words and grazed his fingers over Sam's now bare hipbone, admiring the sharper and curved lines of his brother's body.

Sam answered with his hands. His slid his palm down his brother's side, feeling the changes in his body in the years they'd been apart; Dean was stronger, more solid, tanned skin still spattered with freckles. Bringing his hand up to curve over Dean's hip he tugged his brother's body down, gasping in a shuddering breath as the weight sank down on him. Sam's free hand slid up across his brother's chest, "I... like your body... now. I mean then too... but... _fuck_." Sam laughed softly, deep, rough, it vibrated between them as his hands slid into motion again. "Dean..." Lashes falling to his cheeks Sam's spine arched up, sliding their cocks together for a few heart-stopping moments. Moaning his head whipped forward, lips crashing into his brother's, body writhing underneath him.

Dean rolled down into Sam's body, hands pressing up along his sides, under his arms and pushing them roughly up, one hand stretching wide to keep Sam's wrists pinned above his head. "God you've really gotten gorgeous," he murmured as his lips dipped down to graze along Sam's neck. "Filled out... everywhere," he chuckled softly as his free hand dropped down to whisper a touch along Sam's hard length. "We can really get rough now..." Dean grinned into Sam's skin and bit roughly. "Remember... on the hood of the Impala..." he pushed up enough to gaze down at his brother, sucking his lip between his teeth as his hips rocked forward into Sam's, eyes fluttering as the silky heat shot through him.

"R..Remember..." Sam strained against his brother's grip. Dean was strong. Strong enough to keep Sam there if he wanted too and Sam had pretty much never been more turned on by anything in his enter life. Planting a foot down on the mattress Sam thrust his hips up hard into Dean's, moaning and arching up as his body ran hot and cold with lust. His nails were digging into his palms, hips rocking up hard against his brother's, "d..don’t tease..." Sam's lip curled up as he chased his brother's mouth.

"I remember..." Dean continued, completely ignoring Sam's request and briefly brushing their lips together before sliding down to suck at the skin beneath Sam's earlobe like he used to before. "God that was so fucking hot," he murmured into Sam's ear, hips continuing a gentle rock forward that was killing him. "Me poundin' you down into the hood..." he moaned softly and slid his body further up Sam's until he could reach out to tug open the nightstand drawer and hastily snatch a bottle of lube from inside, hand pressing hard into Sam's wrist before he fell back down over him. "Is it... can I..." he swallowed once more and stared down at Sam, thinking how earlier he had thought they'd just fool around some but _god_ it was impossible to resist the temptation.

Sam's eyes widened briefly, lust flaring in his chest and shoving his heart about like a ping pong ball. "If..." Letting his head fall back onto the mattress Sam's neck arched up, long and inviting toward Dean's mouth. "If you let me..." his breath hitched, "touch you..." Straining against his brother's grasp Sam twisted his body, cock sliding past Dean's once more and drawing moans from both their mouths.

Gasping into the kiss Dean pulled his hand back, letting Sam's wrists go. He was going to need both hands anyway. "Fuck I don't think... I've ever wanted someone like I want you," he murmured, voice deep as his hands ran along every inch of Sam's body that he could reach. Dean slid back enough to fumble with the bottle of lube, flipping the cap back and slicking up his fingers. With a slow drag of his tongue over his lips Dean stared down at his brother, blinking slowly. Something swelled and built up in him quite suddenly and Dean dropped down onto Sam's body, crushing their lips together for a kiss hard enough to press Sam down into the mattress. "I love you," he whispered as he broke the kiss and dropped his lips to Sam's neck, feeling as if it were the most important thing in the world to say.

"Loved you my whole life," Sam murmured, heart clenching at the sudden gentleness of his brother's touch. Sliding a broad hand up the back of Dean's neck he tangled his fingers in his brother's short hair; gripping tight, pulling hard Sam yanked Dean's head back so he could nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Sucking, biting, kissing his way down Dean's long, tanned neck Sam panted. Long leg dragging up along Dean's Sam hooked his leg over his brother's thighs, rolling against the heat of Dean's body. "Dean..." The name fell of Sam's lips encased in a moan, his spine still twisting, and body restless for more.

They rocked that way together for a long few minutes and Dean's eyes fluttered under the pleasure, shaky breath filling his lungs before slowly whispering out. "God I need..." he gasped softly before breaking away enough to drop his still lube slicked fingers low between his brother's body. Dean's eyes shot up to watch Sam's face the moment he slid his finger tip gently over his entrance, mind slamming back to the very first time they'd done this so long ago, when it was all so new and _forbidden_. Pushing his finger forward Dean let himself fall back onto Sam so their lips could melt together in a languid kiss. His tongue slid into Sam's mouth in time with his finger pressing entirely inside Sam's body.

Sam's mouth fell open, a silent moan disappearing into his brother's kiss. Shifting his hips quickly Sam bit down hard on Dean's bottom lip then thrust his hips back, sinking Dean's finger deep inside him. Body tensing in pain and pleasure, Sam's body curled up off the bed, slamming into Dean. The coppery taste of blood exploded across Sam's tongue and he released his brother’s lip, tongue lapping softly at the wounded skin as his tight hole pulsed and burned around Dean's thick finger.

The heat that throbbed around Dean's finger was enough to set his hips grinding forward once more. Dean growled into Sam's mouth as his finger withdrew enough to add a second. He _wanted_ Sam so badly it was driving him insane. "Sammy..." he moaned, the name rolling off his tongue a lot easier than he'd expected though he hadn't used the nickname in years. Dean dipped in once more to sweep his tongue into Sam's mouth, tasting the spark of blood as his body rolled forward along with his fingers.

There was so much happening, so many things that Sam could feel, sense... Dean's heat, the sharp dig of his hip bone, the way his hard shaft nudged against his thigh. "Dean now..." Sam growled out as his nails dragged down his brother's back leaving red tracks behind them. "Fuck me... d..don't wait..." Long fingers sneaked between their bellies and Sam curled them around his brother's cock. Stroking hard, Sam moaned against Dean's lips as he swept his thumb over the head of Dean's cock. "Now, Dean... want it..." His hips snapped up hard, swinging back and forth slightly, teasing himself as he rode his brother's fingers.

"Fuck Sam," Dean growled and thrust his fingers hard into Sam several quick times until Sam's hand on his cock tightened and squeezed enough to send him hurtling too close to the edge. Swallowing once more Dean withdrew completely, fingers sliding from Sam's body, flesh sliding from Sam's grip, and Dean hissed softly as the cool air of the room soaked in around him. "God I'm gonna fuck you so hard," he growled once more, fumbling with the bottle of lube before slicking the cool liquid rapidly over himself. Falling forward once more he rubbed the tip of his aching cock along the curve of Sam's ass, circling his entrance gently as he sucked an open mouthed kiss below his collar bone. "Make you mine again..." he murmured, hips rotating slowly as his shoulders began a gentle shake.

Unable to keep still, Sam twisted and tensed on the bed, muscles quivering wherever their bodies touched. "Was... always yours," Sam whispered. Combing his fingers through his brother's hair Sam tugged him closer, "Dean... please..." Moaning louder, longer, thick and rasping - Sam took Dean's shoulders in his hands, eyes locking with his brother's. Beautiful green, glimmering, watery, dark, "Always... yours." The sensation of his brother trembling, the slick touch of Dean's cock - _everything_ \- Sam's blood was sluggish in his veins. _God_ , he just wanted Dean inside him, wanted them together, "Please..." his voice was weak, bottom lip caught firmly between his teeth.

Feeling like he could spend forever listening to Sam begging, Dean moaned and rolled his hips forward. The moment Sam released his lip he was down for a full kiss, tongue thrusting forward as the tip of his cock broke Sam's entrance. "Sam..." he murmured his brother's name through the kiss, free hand sliding up to thread into his brother's hair and tug sharply. "Fuck you're tight..." he gasped as he sank forward an inch, heart nearly stopping when Sam's muscles clenched around him, pulled him in deeper, consumed his senses and blurred his vision. He pulled back enough to gaze at his brother with lust blown eyes, watching the flicker of emotions across his face.

The burn cut through the fog of _want_ that was enveloping Sam. His eyes widened for a few moments as tension flooded his body, then his body remembered, relaxed, sank back into the moment. Whispering his brother's name over and over, Sam gripped Dean's arms, fingers digging hard into his brother's flesh. He'd wanted it, the burn, the pain - a reminder that all of this was real - _happening_. Muscles relaxing, he felt Dean slide deeper into him and the breath rushed out of his body. Nails digging hard into his brother's back, Sam tilted his hips up as he bit down hard on his bottom lip. Dean's hand tangled in his hair gripped tight, drawing his neck back into a long curve of muscle. "M...More," he stuttered out past spit slick lips.

Sucking in a sharp breath Dean sank forward the rest of the way, eyes fluttering closed as the hard line of his flesh filled Sam completely, bodies completely connected. "Missed this..." he gasped and tugged Sam up to brush their lips together. _Fuck_ he'd missed Sam's body, the feel of him around his flesh, the way his breath hitched and body curved up to meet his. Dean wanted to stay like this forever, never wanted to let Sam go again. "Gonna..." he panted softly against Sam's lips and rolled his hips slightly, enough to shift Sam's hips along with his. "Move... gotta Sam..." he grunted as Sam clamped down hard around him.

Sam's shoulder curled forward, curving his upper body around Dean's. "Can't... s'good..." Squeezing his eyes closed against the swell of emotion creeping up through his body Sam moaned into their kiss. " _Fuck_ ," Sam's lips were still moving on Dean's, sucking, biting - mapping out the features of his brother's face. _Full_. Perfect. Sliding his hands down Dean's back Sam gripped his brother's ass and pulled him closer, _deeper_. A shudder ran down Sam's spine, body rocking up against his brother's, cock hard and aching between them. Lunging up Sam sank his teeth down over Dean's collar bone, clenching down on the flesh as he dug his nails into the strong muscle of his ass.

Dean hissed as Sam's fingers dug into his ass and pulled as Dean slid back and gently rocked forward. "Not... enough..." he growled and withdrew, slammed back hard enough to shift Sam further up the bed. Their skin slid together, slick and slightly damp with sweat as he moved, trying to keep them as close as possible. It felt as if it could never be enough. Dean wanted _more_ though he didn't have any idea what more there could possibly be. Just Sam, as close as they could get, hips meeting with each deep thrust forward, hands constantly curving and trailing over every inch of Sam's body. Dean's lips moved constantly over the line of Sam's jaw, up to his lips, stomach churning and clenching as he worked his hips down into his brother's body.

Sam's legs locked around Dean's, hands in constant motion across the muscles rippling in his brother's back. Each thrust, _slam_ of his brother's body into his sent Sam's mind spinning away into a fog; bruising thrusts, Sam trembled under his brother's hands, heat burning bright in his belly. Shoving roughly at his brother's neck Sam sucked hard on the sensitive skin below Dean's ear, drawing up blood with each pull of his mouth. When he pulled back he was barely able to get his eyes to focus on the purple bruise blooming on Dean's skin. Letting his head fall back Sam moaned out a breath, one hand shoving in between the heat of their bodies to wrap around his swollen cock. "Dean..." he groaned, everything in him was alive, jumping, twitching.

Shoving a hand roughly between them Dean brushed Sam's hand away and curled his own along Sam's cock, stroking with a steady twist of his wrist. "So good Sammy..." he growled as his hips increased pace, free hand looping around Sam's leg to tug him up higher, bending his body in what couldn't be a comfortable way but gave him the right angle to drive in impossibly deep. Dean moaned deeply and released his hold on Sam's cock, slamming hard into his brother and curling his fingers into his shoulders. Sucking in a sharp breath he used the strength he'd built in his upper body to roll them both over, tugging Sam sharply on top of his body and catching the back of his neck. "Want you to ride me," he murmured before crushing his lips hard into Sam's, rolling his hips up.

Sam's heart almost fluttered to a stop. Pushing off Dean’s chest he arched his body back in a graceful bow - hands reaching behind him to curve over his brother's thighs. Swearing softly, moaning, almost whimpering, Sam pushed his spine forward to slide his burning ass off Dean's cock. Thighs quivering with strain Sam held himself there, teasing, barely keeping the head of his brother's cock wrapped in the heat of his flesh.

"Shit Sam..." Dean moaned loudly and arched up into Sam's body, desperately trying to slide back inside him. Seeing the way his brother's body curved over him, the delicious line of pulled muscle, Dean thought he might come from just that alone. His hands fell to Sam's chest, curling into the skin and sliding slowly down. Once more he wrapped his fingers around Sam's cock, squeezing at the base and stroking surely up. The muscles low in Dean's abs clenched as he rocked himself up once more. "Please Sam... need you..." he pleaded, forcing his eyes up from Sam's crotch to his eyes.

Throwing himself forwards Sam ground his ass down on his brother's hard shaft. Dean's name slipped past his lips as he fell into a quivering mass on Dean's chest. _Whatever Dean wanted..._. Rocking his hips he rode his brother's swollen cock, heat swirling through every limb, every nerve-ending painfully alive with sensation. A snap of Dean's hips up and Sam's mouth fell open soundlessly. Wave after wave of pleasure slammed into him, stealing his breath, vision fading for a few moments. Struggling to hold himself up Sam's fingers gripped Dean's chest, palms curved over his brother's muscle - nails digging into the sensitive sandy colored nipples.

Every breath was beginning to feel like it was being torn from his body, too much for him to handle, vision fading out as Sam clenched around him. His fingers along Sam's cock quickened their pace, working to move in between the tight space of their sliding bodies. He could feel his orgasm just along the edges of his senses, building with each slide of Sam's body along his. Dean's body was in constant, continuous motion along the mattress beneath Sam, free hand trailing along every inch of skin he could reach. "Mm'close..." he moaned and rocked up, heels digging into the blanket as he worked his body up as much as possible.

It had been _so_ long, Sam's heart was thumping so fast it felt like it would blow apart. Orgasm sparking along his spine Sam's hips rocked, twisted as he rode his brother's cock fast and hard. Moaning, Sam bit down on his bottom lip lunging forward to slam his mouth against Dean's. "Dean... I'm... I..." Sam's words were swallowed up in the kiss. Sliding his lips wet and burning hot against Dean's - Sam's hips moved desperately as his orgasm built, swirled then blew through his body. Calling out his brother's name Sam flung himself back, arching his back once more, cock spurting hot ropes of come back up his belly and chest. Hips working through his release Sam felt himself clench painfully tight around his brother's cock.

Dean forced his eyes to stay open long enough to watch Sam fall apart before his own release surged up and flared through him. Sam's body was clenching tightly enough around him to force his lips still. Fingers around Sam's cock finished working him through his orgasm, Dean's free hand clenched around Sam's neck tightly as pleasure swirled through him. His hips just barely rocked up into Sam with each wave of his release, eyes clenched tightly as he moaned his brother's name. Collapsing back onto the mattress Dean tugged Sam forward enough to bring their lips together, kissing him through the slowing of his heart.

Panting softly, licking at Dean's mouth, Sam's hands slowed and settled on his brother's chest moments before he shifted and slid off his brother's body. Tucking into Dean's side Sam strained up to suck Dean's bottom lip into his mouth for a fleeting moment before falling back to blink up at him. Bleary-eyed, Sam ran his fingers over the bruise he'd left on Dean's neck; a satisfied smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "No one else..." he sighed, "gets you now..." Letting out a shuddering breath Sam shifted closer, gripping Dean's shoulder.

"Wouldn't want... anyone else..." he muttered, trailing his hands along Sam's back. Blood was still rushing gently in his ears and Dean sighed quietly, trying to calm his system down. "You... better... than I remember..." he laughed and shook his head at his complete inability to string words together.

Dragging his teeth down the side of Dean's chest, Sam groaned quietly. "Don't... wanna move..." he sighed out cheek sliding up to settle on his brother's shoulder. His breathing slowed, heart rate settling back into a more normal rhythm and Sam smiled softly.

Wrapping his arms around Sam's body, Dean smiled and stroked a hand slowly down his back. "You don't gotta move..." he whispered, turning his head to the side to nuzzle Sam's neck and press a kiss into the skin.”You think... maybe one day... you might wanna move in here with me?" He asked quietly, fingers curling into the skin. "One day..."

Sam's heart leapt about in his chest for a few moments then he pressed his lips to Dean's temple. "I think... yeah... one day. Feels like..." Sam puffed out a small sigh, "home..." Emotion bubbled up inside his chest and Sam was too overcome to say more, simply settling into his brother's arms.

"Okay..." Dean smiled brightly and tightened his arms around Sam's body. Part of him wanted to just have Sam move in right _now_ but he knew they both still needed time. No reason to rush it now when they were _mostly_ doing a good job about taking it slow. "This was okay yeah?" He asked quietly, feeling Sam rise and fall with his shaky sigh.

"Okay?" Sam huffed out in surprise. Chuckling softly Sam slithered down in Dean's arms, lips ghosting over his brother's chest as he settled in the crook of his arm. "Perfect," he sighed. His lips twitched into a smile, "was..." he swallowed, "really _fuckin'_ hot." Sam had a feeling the smile would be stuck on his face for a while.

Chuckling softly Dean nodded and looped his arm firmly around him. "Yeah, it was definitely that." A happy little bubble built up in him and Dean smiled as his eyes drifted closed. "For the record, you can stay the night whenever you'd like." Turning toward Sam slightly he pressed a kiss to his brow and kicked up at the blanket. "Night Sam."

Already drifting off Sam simply muttered his agreement, lips still curved into a slight smile.

Waiting until he was certain his brother had fallen asleep, Dean carefully slid out from under him and padded quietly toward the bathroom. A few moments later he returned with a wet rag, brushing along his chest and body before sliding in beside Sam once more. He stroked low on Sam's body for a quiet few moments. Once Sam was clean he dropped the rag off the side of the bed and settled back into the pillow, tucking his arm under Sam's body and pulling him close.

-=-=-=-

"Well don't you look snazzy," Eliza grinned, stepping into his bedroom and walking immediately to the mirror he was standing in front of.

Dean glanced over at her, blinking a few times, "okay I really need to move the spare key now that Sam and I have an actual sex life. Cause I know you'd just stay and watch."

"You had sex?" Eliza's eyes widened and she looked back at the bed before turning to Dean. "Was it good? Did you top or did he? God Dean give me some details here."

"Ian," Dean leaned back and called, peering through the open doorway to watch Ian's head pop out from the kitchen. "You know your fiancé is trying to get details about me and Sam fucking, are you really gonna stand for that?"

Ian brought an apple to his lips and munched happily. "There was fucking? Are you offering details? Pictures maybe?"

"Good god you're _both_ perverted freaks," Dean grumbled, shaking his head as he turned back to brush off the shoulders of his shirt. "Look, I've adjusted to the totally oddity that is you two but can you calm yourselves for the night? Try not to overload Sam. This is going to be our first date with another couple and I'd rather you two not scar him any more than you already have." He rolled his eyes and picked at his hair in annoyance.

Both Eliza and Ian laughed in a way that suggested to Dean that they weren't likely to tame anything down. "We'll be on our best behaviour," Eliza insisted and gave Dean her most innocent smile.

Dean was unable to gain any more promises on the matter since the doorbell rang and stopped all words in his throat. He shot a look at Eliza before turning to head to the door, drawing up short when Ian pulled it open first. "Hey there Sam," he grinned and reached out to tug Sam into the house.

Sam's eyes widened and he smiled shyly at Ian. "H..Hello, how are you?" He glanced around Ian's broad shoulders and his smile relaxed when he caught his brother's eye down the hallway. "Sorry, am I late?" His eyes widened again and he rested his hand on Ian's shoulder as he leaned around to get a better look at his brother. Dean always looked good when he dressed up a little and with the exception of the Tux fitting it had been a long time since Sam had seen it. A well-fitted jacket over a white t-shirt and thigh hugging jeans. "You look really good," he murmured over Ian's shoulder.

Dean dipped his head down as a smile pulled his lips, hand running along the back of his neck, "thanks. Ian, you mind moving out of the way please?" He stepped forward, laughing when Ian slid back.

"My bad," he laughed as well and stepped away, giving Dean room to step toward Sam.

Reaching out Dean snagged Sam's hand, smiling as his eyes slid down the crisp lines of his brother's clothes, reaching up to graze along the brushed cotton of his jacket before curling around his neck and bringing him in. "You look fantastic," he whispered into Sam's lips, chuckling softly before slanting their lips together for a slow glide of his lip.

The faintest waft of Dean's cologne reached Sam's nose as they kissed and his hands moved automatically to slip under his brother's jacket and slide over the cool white cotton of his shirt. "Mmm," he murmured and pulled back, eyes opening slowly. "Hi." Swallowing, Sam took a deep breath and rubbed his thumb along his bottom lip. "Could kiss you all night..." Feeling his cheeks flush he dropped his eyes to his brother's pendent, fingers circling around it.

For some reason the gesture made Dean's heart flutter and he smiled as his forehead came to rest against Sam's, breaths mingling together. "I could do more than that all night..." he whispered, chuckling softly.

Ian cleared his throat and Eliza smacked him in the chest, "shh let them be! It's too cute to interrupt."

Pulling back slightly Dean laughed and reached out to lay his hand above Sam's heart as he turned to his friends. "Am I gonna have to comb my room for any hidden video cameras or anything?"

Tipping her head back Eliza laughed and pushed her long brown hair over her shoulders, "Dean, I would _never_ do anything that mischievous." She laughed louder when all three men turned disbelieving eyes to her. "Okay so maybe I would. But anyway! Sam, you look very handsome," Eliza beamed and stepped forward to press a kiss to each of his cheeks. "How are you?"

Beaming a smile at her Sam stayed close to his brother's side, two fingers hooked over the waistband of his jeans possessively. "We having a drink here?" Raising his eyebrows he glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eye. "I could use a stiff one."

"We've got reservations," Ian explained with a shrug and smile. "But don't worry, the place we're going has a pretty good drink selection."

"I think we could _all_ use a stiff one," Eliza giggled and leaned back into Ian's body. "Sadly not all of us can drink. I'll be the designated driver, two birds and all," she bubbled happily and brushed past them to head to the door.

Dean blinked and shook his head, glancing over at Sam. "Are you _sure_ want to do this? I have a feeling it's going to be an interesting evening." He glanced back over to watch Ian trail out the door after Eliza, hand sliding along her waist and behind her back to bring her forward.

Sam was pretty sure there was a slightly fearful expression on his face. "Just don't leave me alone with them." Leaning in for a final brush of his lips across Dean's slightly stubbled cheek Sam whispered, "no hunt _ever_ prepared me for a force as powerful as Eliza." Laughing softly Sam moved down the hallway and outside, "oh," he threw back over his shoulder, "you're driving me on the bike." He jogged down the stairs to the garage door - self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Rolling his eyes Dean trailed along after, locking the door behind him. "If I drive you I can't drink myself into a happily oblivion. That's like torture."

"Jeez you boys sure now how to make a girl feel loved," Eliza huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder once more before heading for their car. "I'm harmless as a butterfly. Or my bark is worse than my bite or whatever you want to say." She stepped to the side as Ian slid up to pull open her door.

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes, " _right_ cause that's believable." Glancing at Sam he shrugged. "Well we're just gonna be coming back here, it would save you two a trip," he feigned his best innocent look, not admitting that he preferred having Sam flushed up behind to being able to drink any day.

Nodding quickly Sam moved over and started tugging on the garage door, forgetting it was locked. Grinning he turned back to Eliza, "besides, you'll get to see how turned on Dean gets when I ride behind him." It kind of back-fired because he could feel his own cheeks flaring with heat - but it was worth it for the expression that crept across Dean's face.

"Well then," Eliza grinned and slid into the seat, nodding as if she very much agreed with this idea.

Dean shook his head and bent to unlock the garage door, tugging it up and pushing his bike out. As he walked past his brother he tossed him his keys to lock up the garage, kicking up the stand and sliding his leg over the seat. "We'll follow you there," Dean called to Ian and smiled at the man as he walked along the car and slid into the driver's side. Glancing behind him Dean held out his hand. "C'mon lover," he teased, smirk curving his lips up, "don't want to be left behind."

Cocking an eyebrow at his brother Sam pocketed the keys and swung his leg over the back of the bike then shimmied up as close as he could to his brother's ass. Sliding both hands under Dean's arms his palms moved over his shirt, gliding down slowly until the fingers of one hand slide under the waist band of his jeans. Teeth clenching down on the over-sensitive skin just at the nape of his brother's neck he patted Dean's thigh with his free hand then curled his fingers into the muscle. "Ready..." he murmured.

Rolling his lips together Dean moaned softly and shook his head before kicking forward. "Gonna kill us," he muttered indignantly and tipped his head back in a slight laugh as they followed Ian and Eliza down the street. There was really nothing better than having Sam with him here, pressed up against his back, arms wrapped around him as they followed his friends down the street. It made everything in Dean's body swell and build until he was laughing just because he was _happy_ and the feeling was too genuine to ignore. As they pulled up into the parking lot of the restaurant Dean leaned heavily into Sam's body, sighing softly as his fingers laced through his brothers and squeezed softly.   
Sam propped his chin on Dean's shoulder and tightened his arms around his brother. "You good?"

"Very," he said softly and tipped his head back against Sam's shoulder, turning into his neck to press his lips into the skin. "I love you," he said quietly, enjoying the flutter of his heart in response to the words, hand lifting up and back slightly to slide into his hair.

Sighing, Sam closed his eyes. "We're good. This is good." Turning slightly, Sam ducked down to kiss Dean's full bottom lip, "Love you." That ache was gone, the one that had followed him from California, the one that throbbed every time Dean walked away. Now, Sam knew he'd always come back, he could feel it. Smile spreading across his cheeks he nipped at Dean's cheek, "I'm hungry."

Chuckling softly Dean slid off the bike and tugged his brother with him, glancing over at Eliza and Ian as they called out for them. "Well come on, gotta feed the Sasquatch," he teased and looped his finger through Sam's belt loop, enjoying the feeling of being exactly where they both belonged.


End file.
